The Rose & Crown
by Weesie Hills
Summary: A series of continuous adventures after "The Name of the Doctor". Contains as much whouffle as I can manage to cram in within an adventure setting. Practically all the plots leading up to Clara's human-y death.
1. I Prologue

**This is my first Doctor Who fanfic so please read with an open mind and eye. *mystic music plays in the background* Please review afterwards I would highly appreciate it (I respond)! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who**

* * *

Angie and Artie looked towards their house from where they walked on the sidewalk. Angie gave a sigh of joy.

"Yes," she exclaimed happily as she couldn't locate the blue box that stood beside the driveway from time to time. Clara, her nanny, must've woken up and decided to take a trip with her time-traveling boyfriend. "Finally, no one home to boss us around."

"Isn't nobody home a _bad_ thing?" Artie asked her.

"Oh please, it's the best thing in a looong time," she told him.

Just as they approached the house they heard a familiar whirring noise and they turned around to see the TARDIS start to materialize.

"Oh, come on!"

Several seconds later, the Doctor opened one of the doors and poked his head out to scan the area. He didn't even seem to notice the children. He poked his head back into the TARDIS and closed the door.

What's he doing? Angie thought. Sure, her nanny's boyfriend was weird, and frankly, quite gullible, but he could be boring sometimes.

She saw when he came back, carrying Clara in his arms. She seemed unconscious and possibly injured. Even Angie wouldn't want to see her nanny injured, as much as she would love the new-found freedom it would give her.

"Sorry," the Doctor whispered as he accidentally bumped Clara's head on the door frame of the TARDIS. He did his best to close and lock the doors. He spun around and faced the children.

"What are you doing?" Angie asked him, crossing her arms.

"Oh, we…uh," the Doctor stammered as he looked down at Clara. "I know this looks bad, but it isn't what it looks like."

"Oh, really?"

The Doctor seemed to pout a bit, before lashing out his only comeback, "Well, at least _I_ didn't go to the cinema when a certain someone told me not too!"

"Did you kidnap Clara?" Artie asked as him. Yes, how did the Doctor acquire Clara in such a way?

"It's a long story, I'll explain when I put Clara down somewhere," he responded. Angie sighed and opened the door for him. The Doctor, in turn, bounced excitedly in.

The Doctor placed Clara gently on her bed just like he had after she had been downloaded by a Wi-Fi network. He lovingly stroked her forehead as she took in a deep breath. She was beautiful even when rendered unconscious. She was even more beautiful when she was awake. Her brown eyes gleaming with curiosity and excitement, how her brow furrowed when she was confused, the way her hair could spin 180 degrees and still lay flat. He stopped himself. How could he think that? Clara was just a friend, nothing more and nothing less. It's not like she would ever return his affections anyway.

He spun around and grabbed a pitcher to pour a glass of water that would stand next to her bed. He made sure she was comfortably wrapped in her duvet and bed sheets. Next, he found a blank sheet of paper and quickly jotted something down on it. He folded it, neatly wrote her name on the front, and then leaned it against the glass of water. Lastly, he took a half-dried rose from the inside of his jacket and placed it in the pitcher of water. He gave her a loving look and spun around to face the children.

"Righty ho then, time to start explaining," he smirked with a clap of his hands. He briskly walked through the doorway and galloped down the stairs. The children gave their nanny one last doubtful look before following the alien downstairs.

The Doctor had just put a kettle on when the children had come downstairs. He looked at them with a faked smile on his face, just letting a bit of fear seep through.

The Doctor started his story at the game of Blind Man's Bluff, explaining how Clara had just woken up from her conference when she began to explain that the Great Intelligence had found his grave, and that he had to go to Trenzalore to save his friends.

"What happened once the Great Intelligence opened your tomb?" Artie asked as the kettle began to sing. The Doctor carefully took it off and turned the stove off.

"A lot of bad things started to happen," he carried the tray of sweet-smelling tea to the kitchen table. He poured himself some tea and sat down, the children sitting across from him.

"First thing that happened was the Great Intelligence walking into the scar tissue that I left in the universe. Now, time traveling leaves little tears in the universe, and the scar tissue that I left in it remains when I die. It was my entire time stream, from my beginning on Gallifrey to my fall in Trenzalore." He took a long, annoying drink of his tea. "When the Great Intelligence stepped through it, it made copies, echoes, of him in my timeline and he began to kill me all at once. Every star system, planet, and person I ever saved started to disappear and die. The whole universe started to cave in on itself."

"But it didn't, or else we wouldn't be here," Angie pointed out.

The Doctor smiled, "Clever girl, but do you know how Clara saved the universe?"

Angie and Artie looked at each other in confusion. This pleased him and he began to lean in a bit.

"In order for the universe to be restored someone had to sacrifice themselves and be born, live, save me and die a thousand and one times. That completely selfless impossible human being was Clara. She jumped into the timeline and created a thousand copies of herself and threw them across my timeline so that I never died; but she would take my place in the process," he grew more serious towards the end and looked older. The house grew quiet.

"Doctor?"

The Doctor looked over to Clara and gave a pleasant smile. "Speak of the impossible girl. Why not sit down and have some tea with us?"

She looked over at the spot and the tea. She had her hand on her head, as if it hurt. He wouldn't have liked to see her hurt, it's painful to see someone you like hurt.

"Yeah." She stumbled slowly to the empty chair besides the Doctor and sat down. She looked a bit disoriented. He noticed her rub her head as she seemed to stare off into the distance. No, actually, her gaze sat upon the teapot and a cup next to it.

"Clara?" The Doctor put a hand on her shoulder. She didn't respond. "Clara, what's wrong?"

"The tea," she said as she stared at the tea. The Doctor looked over at the tea, and seeing nothing wrong with it, looked back at Clara. There was something awfully wrong about her. He looked at her eyes and saw them shake. She wasn't seeing things right either. He quickly grabbed her other shoulder and looked her in the face.

"Clara, what's wrong?" The Doctor asked her. She just stared at the tea like she was off seeing some distant planet or galaxy; or there was something wrong with the tea that he just couldn't notice. She jerked her arms away and started to rub her forehead quickly as she snapped back into reality.

"Sorry, what?"

"Clara is everything alright?" The Doctor asked her.

"Yeah, yeah," she continued to rub her forehead.

"You said something about the tea," he reminded her.

"Yeah could I have some?" She sighed as she looked at it warily. The Doctor nodded and grabbed the teapot. He began to pour when Clara spoke up, "Pour it carefully, and only halfway. Don't add anything." He looked at her cautiously and handed her the mug.

"How does your head feel?" He asked her. She gave a slurred grunt and took the tea.

"I'm going to take a guess and say that's a 'not good at all'," he said as he took out his sonic screwdriver and waved it in front of her eyes. He brought it close to his face and observed it, twisting it around until he got the results he wanted. "You never answered me," he looked at her, "how does your head feel?"

She looked at him as she sipped at her tea and then looked at the kids.

"Angie, Artie, go outside or upstairs, the Doctor and I need to talk." The kids followed her command and began to hop up the stairs out of sight and out of mind. The Doctor looked at her suspiciously. Something wasn't right with his impossible girl. Perhaps she brought something out of the timeline with her? No, that would be impossible. He placed a hand on her and rubbed her back reassuringly. He leaned in and waited for her response.

"It hurts really badly, like it's full, but not full," she tried to explain. She placed the tea down.

"What do you remember from my timeline?"

"Less and less," she rubbed her temples harder.

"That's what I thought," he brooded.

"Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"I don't think I'll be able to keep my tea down," she winced.

"It's alright," he told her as he brought her closer. He helped her up to the bathroom and left her there, waiting outside the door.

He wandered around the house and looked out the video screen to see if Mr. Maitland was on his way back yet. He didn't want to hear Clara. He was coming home, in fact. The Doctor straightened his bow tie and readied himself for the meeting with Clara's employer.

He opened the door and came inside.

"Doctor," he greeted him.

"Mr. Maitland," he smiled. "How was your journey to the neighbor's?"

"Good, good, Clara awake yet?" He asked with worry.

"Dad!" Artie rushed down the stairs and embraced his father in an enormous hug.

"So how's Clara?" Angie asked him with a single quirk of an eyebrow.

"Fine, a bit of a scrambled head but that's to be expected." The Doctor explained a bit proud of himself for figuring it out.

"Is she awake?" Mr. Maitland asked.

"Yes, she's just a bit sick," he gestured towards the bathroom door. "Scrambled head," he pointed out again.

"What happened?" He asked as he began to grow worried.

"Long story, I'll explain later," the Doctor said awkwardly.

He spun around to see Clara standing in the door frame.

"Clara!" He said in excitement. She quickly started to lean on the door frame weakly, as if she couldn't support herself. "Clara?" He grew deeply concerned as she seemed to lose her balance. He rushed over to her. "Clara!" He asked her again, his hands on her face. She planted her head in his chest with a small, "oof" as soon as he asked.

"It's alright, I got you, I've got you." He whispered as he kissed her forehead. He swung her legs up and carried her in his arms. He spun around to face the others, "She passed out."

"Right," Mr. Maitland sighed, "let's take her upstairs to bed then."

The Doctor led the parade up the stairs and to the room Clara slept in. He placed her gently in the bed and wrapped the duvet and sheets neatly around her again.

"Doctor…" Clara whispered as she took a deep breath. Her eyes were half-open as she looked at him wearily.

"Hey, Clara," he whispered back gently as he stroked her head. "How are you feeling?"

"It hurts," she softly cried in pain.

"I know, I know, it's going to hurt for a while," he explained. "The TARDIS is erasing some of your memories; it's not a pleasant experience. You jumped into my timeline, the TARDIS is erasing your memories of my future so you don't accidently, or purposefully, reveal anything about my future. The paradoxes would-" he cut himself off as he saw the hurt and confused look on her face. She was obviously in pain from the way her nose contorted and the way her eyebrows sat crookedly on her face. He hated that look. He decided that he would explain to her later, if she could remember what he wanted to talk to her about.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb as he looked into her eyes and his expression melted as he realized something: she still looked beautiful.

"Just try to get some rest," he said planting a kiss on her head. She was asleep when he looked at her again. He quickly cleared his throat and spun around. "Looks like I have some more talking to do."

* * *

Clara rubbed her eyes as she began to stir in her bed. She gave a small moan as put the palms of her hands on her temples to try to soothe the pain that creeping in. She tried not to cry as memories pursued it.

It was one of the painful memories, the ones she wished she didn't have to remember. She was on Gallifrey, chaos was ensuing as the last days of the Time War approached. Mothers held children, men clutched wives, and children wept loudly. She turned behind her to see a young Timelady who cried out for an, "Arkytior" and her father. She didn't know who they were but she presumed they were family. That's when she started to crack like an egg and break into a nervous bout of crying. It was over. It was all over and she didn't even know what it was. She looked up at the sky, hearing a familiar sound: the sound of a TARDIS. That's when Gallifrey grew silent and every being that lived grew silent as they realized that this was the Timelords' end. They respected that. She clung to the beautiful sound in hopes that perhaps at some point the TARDIS would sweep her away and save her from such desolation. She knew better, but it was good to hope. Then the machine's sweet engine faded away and everything grew white and painful. Thankfully, it ended only a few seconds later but with a horrid realization; Gallifrey was destroyed.

Clara finally opened her eyes as the headache softened a bit. She lay there for a while as she contemplated the memory. Had she just remembered…Gallifrey? And not just any Gallifreyan memory but the day the Doctor had exploded it.

The Doctor. Her thoughts about dying on an exploding planet were quickly replaced with thoughts about the Doctor. Was this why he looked so old and tired when he was sad? Was it him contemplating his old life, before he began to run away from every thought, action, and person in his past? Perhaps that was why he didn't sleep at night.

Her eyes wandered carefully around the room to see if there was anything to take her mind off the painful distraction of exploding homes and a spaceman she couldn't be with. They caught a note that had been left there earlier by the Doctor. She hadn't noticed it until know. She snatched it from the glass of water it had leaned on and opened it. She began to read:

_Dear Clara, _

_If you're reading this you must have woken up by now and I'm not here. I didn't think this would actually, properly happen but it did and I apologize for that. I should probably start filling you in on what has happened within the last 24 hours. After you passed out in my time stream I pulled you out and Vastra, Jenny, and Strax helped me take you out of my tomb (I needed to rest for a bit. Doing things like that can really wear you out, can't they?) After about 15 minutes the three sealed the door to my tomb and I carried you out and away from the TARDIS wreckage. When we were walking back you seemed to gain a bit of consciousness and _insisted_ on putting you down because you were "completely fine." (I don't know if you remember this bit which is why I'm telling you) I allowed you to walk (or limp more like) for a bit before you began to slip back into unconsciousness. You seemed to go into small "fits" where you were conscious, and then unconscious and then conscious again and so on and so forth. By the time we reached the TARDIS you were unconscious again and I managed to take the three "Victorians" home while keeping an eye on you. Oh, and the three are hoping you feel better as well. After that I took you home and put you in bed and you're caught up to now. Come downstairs or try to find me if you feel up to it. Get better!_

_Your very sincere_ _and hopeful friend,_

_ The Doctor_

_P.S. I've added some modifications to the note since you came downstairs. Mr. Maitland is currently holding me up and I think he wants to call your father. I'll try to convince him to think otherwise though; we wouldn't want to upset him. And some new guidelines I need you to follow:_

_Don't come downstairs_

_You might likely be possibly injured, call for me as soon as you can so I can scan you and make sure you're alright._

_Don't eat or drink anything._

_If you need anything, shout for me, I don't want you coming downstairs. In fact, don't even get out of bed for that matter._

_Don't worry about the kids, we're watching them._

_Try to rest. I would highly recommend going back to sleep._

_If you need to talk about any memories or bits of the time stream to me call for me._

_Just call me when you wake up and you won't have to worry about half the stuff on this list. _

Clara rubbed her eyes and looked at the door. She is exhausted, despite the large amount of sleep she had received. She looked back over the list and then the door again. She put on a determined face and put the note down. The Doctor didn't know how she felt physically, mentally and emotionally. Especially emotionally; she was a bit upset at him due to a couple of memories and things that she remembered in his time stream.

She quickly sat up and then stopped as her head started to hurt again. She flopped back down in her bed and began to try to wait it out. She is tempted to shout out the Doctor's name but stopped herself. She was upset with him, right? How could she forget that?

This memory was different from the other one. There was a man there. She couldn't give an exact name, but she guessed he was the Doctor. They were standing in the TARDIS while he went on about some absolutely amazing and fantastic thing he wanted to show her. All she felt was pain. Everything was painful and she couldn't get rid of it. The Doctor seemed to notice this because he stopped smiling. He quickly rushed over to her and asked her what was wrong. He kept repeating her name until she screamed. He pulled her close and began to rush her somewhere. She didn't know where she was going but all she could focus on was the pain. And then suddenly the memory started to fade away to black.

She couldn't remember the memory anymore. All she could figure out was that she had remembered something.

She began to see the room as the darkness etched away. The dream must have been bad because the Doctor was there now. Had she screamed? He was waving his sonic screwdriver in front of her face.

She shut her eyes and groaned in annoyance, "Stop waving your toy in front of my face."

She half-opened her tired eyes and saw him a bit taken aback from her snap.

"What? Did I do something?" She said as she rubbed her eyes. The Doctor shook off the sonic screwdriver comment and bent down to eye-level with her and gently placed his thumb on her cheek.

"You screamed, is everything alright?" He asked her softly.

"Yeah, I think so," she murmured, "I think I was remembering something."

"What was it about? Please talk about it." The Doctor urged her as he sat on the edge of her bed. She furrowed her eyebrows and her forehead crinkled in confusion.

"I don't…remember…"she looked at Mr. Maitland and then the Doctor. "Was it…bad?" She was really, properly scared now. What was so awfully terrifying that she couldn't even remember it anymore? The Doctor looked at George for some reassurance and then put on a fake smile as he grabbed Clara's hand and squeezed it.

"No, just a scream was all," he informed her. She nodded like it was some sort of programmed function. She didn't know what was going on or what was happening but she just decided she was going to go with it. She suddenly realized something that seemed to jolt her awake. She quickly sat upright.

"Where are the kids?" She asked. She hoped they were alright. Perhaps they were coping well with whatever it is that was going on with her. Or they could be breaking down and getting upset as their absolutely fantastic and beautiful nanny battled whatever war was raging on inside her head. She couldn't bear to think of them like that.

"Don't worry, Clara. They're at school, perfectly alright." George explained gesturing outside.

"A more important question would be how you're feeling?" the Doctor asked her. Clara rubbed her eyes again to avoid eye contact.

"Tired," she finally said.

"Then sleep," he urged as he stroked her hand with his thumb soothingly. She shook her head. It wasn't that she didn't want to; she is exhausted for that matter. It had been that she didn't want to have any more nightmares, or bad memories of the Time War. Of all things now that was what currently scared her the most now. Not the Doctor, not his time stream, not any aliens or running, not the children, but Gallifrey's final days. Was this how the Doctor felt? Not sleeping because he didn't have to but because he was afraid to. That if he did fall asleep he'd discover that he was really on Gallifrey awaiting his demise? She tried not to think about it.

The Doctor looked at her in the eye as sadness and confusion pained his face.

"Why not?" he coaxed her as he leaned forward and clasp his other hand on hers.

She continued to shake her head and pulled him in for a hug as she fought the urge to cry.

"Shh," the Doctor whispered as he rubbed her back and tried to comfort her. He saw George out of the corner of his eye gesture that he had to go. The Doctor gave him a "thumbs up" as he began to rock Clara back and forth. George quietly left the room to go to work. "Please Clara, tell me what you saw."

The tears began to stream from her eyes as she remembered screams and crying children. Dead people mourning as fireworks blazed brightly through the sky. Hatred in its organic form screaming curses and pulling random people off the street to condemn them to their everlasting death. Those people were lucky. They were the ones who were at peace. The others grew silent as the final sound they heard was a peaceful invention of theirs stolen and turned against itself. This one, however, was a kind soul that mourned with her weary traveler. The one that never slept; the one that stole women and took them to see the stars; the one that never turned his back on people he loved and only did so once on that day. The final day.

She pulled him closer and then away. He had the blood of so many on his hands, planets even. How did he live like this, remembering the worst war in the history of the universe? Not only that but _ending_ it.

He grabbed her arms gently and squeezed them reassuringly. He looked into her eyes.

"Please tell me what's wrong." He begged her.

"I remember it," she sniffed sadly. "I remember all of it."

"Clara, I can't help you if you don't tell me," he explained to her. She shook her head again.

"I can't," she murmured. It was one of those memories that were even too painful for the Doctor to bring up. The Time War had that sort of effect. One that plagues your mind and makes your body sore and you can't help yourself and all you can do is curl up and cry. The Doctor nodded respectfully.

"But please, sleep. You need to rest, Clara. Your mind is under a lot of stress now as it tries to sort out a thousand and one lives in your head now. The TARDIS isn't helping much either," he remarked.

"Why?" she asked in confusion.

"The TARDIS doesn't like the fact that you retained knowledge of my future," he sighed. "I wasn't in long enough to let it sink into my memory but _you_ were in their more than long enough to let the memories sink into your head. She's afraid that you're going to 'spill the beans' about something important in my timeline at some point. So she's erasing your memories in the future up until this point."

"That could explain some of the headaches," Clara observed.

"Yes, now go to sleep." He told her off. She shook her head again.

"I can't sleep, Doctor." She told him again. He put his fingers on her temples.

"Would you like me to help?" He asked her. She reluctantly nodded. "Alright then, just relax, Clara. Just relax." He closed his eyes and telepathically transmitted a message to her brain that translated into, "sleep."

Clara almost instantly passed out again and the Doctor gladly caught her and gently placed her in bed. He pulled the covers up over her and watched her sleep. Her rhythmic breathing was gentle and placid. He set a stray piece of hair back behind her ear lovingly as she continued to doze. He sighed before pulling up a chair and sitting beside her bedside. He took her hand and gently kissed it.

"We're home!" Angie shouted from downstairs. The Doctor looked towards the door and then quickly back to Clara as he heard her start to stir. "Shh," he whispered as he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"Hello?" Angie shouted again. He started to panic a little as he heard Clara groan a bit. He quickly jumped up and hopped down the stairs.

"Oi, be quieter. Clara's sleeping." He hushed the children urgently.

"Still?" Angie said as she quirked her eyebrows in surprise.

"Yes; I mean, no. I mean," the Doctor sighed and waved his hands in confusion. "I'll explain while I get some snacks. Would you like snacks?"

"Yes please," Artie smiled. The Doctor quietly clapped his hands and walked into to kitchen. He opened a cupboard and pulled out a packet of Jammie Dodgers. He grabbed a plate and poured the cookies on a plate.

"Here you go, nice after-school snack," the Doctor said as he took one and ate it himself.

"So, what's the status update on Clara?" Angie asked the Doctor curiously.

"She woke up a couple of hours ago. I had to force her back to sleep because she refused to. Wouldn't tell me why." The Doctor started to rumble.

"Maybe she had another nightmare," Artie suggested while nibbling on a cookie. Clara had a terrible nightmare that night. They couldn't manage to wake her up so she was just in bed screaming and crying her heart out. It broke both of his.

"Maybe," the Doctor mumbled.

"DOCTOR!" a screeching shout pierced through the quiet. And all three of them jumped in alarm and ran up the stairs.

They came into Clara's room to see her having a fit. She was moving about in her bed, tears streaming from her eyes and her breathing sharpened and was quicker. "Doctor!" she shouted once more.

"Clara." The Doctor said her name as he rushed to her side. By the time he reached her, however, she had already stopped.

"What happened to her?" Angie asked.

"The memory erased in the middle of her remembering it." He explained as he checked her vital signs. He scanned her with the sonic screwdriver. He snapped it open and lifted it up so that he could observe it. "The TARDIS is almost done with her memory," he stated. "It should be done sometime tonight."

"So she's not going to have nightmares again?" Artie asked. It was obvious that the boy was afraid.

"No, in fact, they might get worse as the TARDIS cleans up," he murmured. "I'll bring her to the TARDIS tonight so you can't hear her. I don't want you to worry."

* * *

Clara tossed in her sleep unknowingly. It wasn't a sour dream, not in the least. This dream was about her first trip in a TARDIS. It wasn't a steady flight, as it was only her father taking her out and she didn't know how to control it yet. He had owned a Type 49 TARDIS, which was a bit old in her opinion. Not as old as the Doctor's though!

She woke up as she landed on the cold, metal floor. She placed her cheek on its cooling touch for a moment in exhaust. She let out a sigh. She missed Gallifrey. How did the Doctor bear this sadness? Then she realized something. The Maitland's don't have metal floors.

She lifted her head in surprise and looked down at the floor. She put a hand to her head and seethed in pain.

"Clara."

She looked up in response to her name. This bit was the most confusing to her, and she never did figure out what it was about until later in life; once her Doctor had…perished. The impossible figure she saw in the doorway was the Tenth Doctor. She just stared in awe at him.

"Why'd you leave me?" He asked her once he was sure he had her attention.

She looked at him in confusion, furrowing her eyebrows.

"What did I do wrong, Clara? Please tell me what I did wrong," he looked like he was going to cry. She just shook her in confusion. What was happening?

"You can stay at home, Clara. I don't mind," he told her. "But please tell me what I did wrong." Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes. "I thought you trusted me. That's why we spent all those years travelling with each other. You told me about Gallifrey, I told you about Gallifrey and we _trusted_ each other and then you just left," he said gesturing his arm towards the door and then letting it down, "out of the blue. And I couldn't figure out why because I thought we were happy together, _you_ were happy with _me_. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry but I was so confused I did what you told me not too. The last thing you said to me was to not go back to my cloud and I did FOR 69 YEARS!" He was shouting now. She didn't like this. The Tenth Doctor, the Eleventh Doctor and even the Ninth Doctor weren't like this…this…beast. "I did it because I was so confused. I didn't know why you would have left me and I don't-" he broke himself off as the tears were on the verge of spilling.

"And when I came back for you and I asked what was wrong you screamed and shouted at me and you broke both of my hearts clean." The tears started to come out now. "So why did you leave me, Clara?" he asked her again.

Maybe it was an illusion, the TARDIS playing tricks on her again. So, she decided it was best not to respond to his question. She just stared at him with big, brown eyes curious and sad at the current situation. She didn't know what was happening. After seeing her not respond after a while he got upset.

"WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME‽" He shouted at her as more tears fell.

She felt her own tears start to fall as she shouted back at him, "I DON'T KNOW!" She started to break down sobbing as his expression started to weaken.

"Clara, Clara!" The Eleventh Doctor shouted gently at her as he ran through the door frame straight through the Tenth Doctor and making him fade away. He grabbed her shoulders and gently shook her to try to snap her out of the fit.

She tried blinking through the tears and could at least make out the Doctor's chin. She continued sobbing and did her best to weakly hug him. She ended up slumping over him and wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head on his lap. She whimpered in fright. Why was that mean old cow playing such maddening tricks on her?

"Shhh, Clara, it's alright. It's alright, everything is fine. You're alright," he kept repeating as he rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her. She sniffed and tried to stop her crying. She looked up at the Doctor and he noticed. "Yes, Clara?"

"Doctor, where are we?" she asked.

"We're in the TARDIS. I didn't want the Maitlands to worry over you is all." He cupped her face with his hands and looked over it carefully. "How are you feeling? Any better?"

She gave a slight nod, "Yeah, a little."

"Good, good," he smiled as he placed her head on his chest and brought her closer. She dragged the twisted sheets off her bed along with her. He continued to rub her back. "Just try and get back to sleep."

"What time is it? Can I see the kids?" Clara asked him.

"You could but it's 3 in the morning so I don't think they'll appreciate it." The Doctor explained. "Just go back to sleep, Clara. They're perfectly fine." He said as he rocked her gently. She let out a shaky breath as she looked up at him with wide eyes. She was afraid of going back to bed, the thought shook her.

Sleep was a thing she had come to dread. To fall asleep and have dreams that she couldn't remember when she woke up. Then there were ones she did remember: the life on Gallifrey, the life as a Dalek, the life in Victorian London, and the numerous others that were created to save the Doctor in his past. The overwhelming part was how many she had already forgotten, that the TARDIS had erased from her memory in the future. It was saddening. But there were good ones, too. Like when she was in her dad's TARDIS. She held onto that. Perhaps if she held on to a good memory she'd have one. She doubted it, but it was worth a shot

"Don't be scared, Clara." The Doctor assured her as if he sensed her fear. "It'll be alright, I won't leave you."

"Better not, Chin." She murmured as she began to drift off into sleep. She snuggled closer to his chest as darkness swept over her.

Oswin was climbing down a ladder from her escape pod after it had crashed. The crew hadn't woken up yet, and she didn't think they were going to. She reached the bottom and looked around the dark cavern in front of her.

"Hello?" she asked the darkness. No response. She nervously reached into her pocket and pulled out a torch. She clicked it on and swept it over the premises.

This place was spooky, like a graveyard. Not that she was afraid of graveyards; it was just the feeling it gave. It sent a chill up her spine and it wasn't just the cold. Her light caught a Dalek and she gave a slight scream and jumped, dropping her torch.

After it didn't move she gave a sigh of relief and picked it back up. She quickly bounded over to the empty husk to observe it. She flicked her torch around it and saw the cracks and damage done to the vessel. It smelled of decay and rot seemed to seep around it.

"It's just an empty shell," she murmured to herself in relief. But why would there be empty Dalek shells just lying around? She saw something in the corner of her eye and quickly spun around. There was a light just around the corner. She let out a nervous breath.

If there were Dalek shells lying around then what would the killer of the Daleks be like? This beast would probably do its best to tear her apart. She slowly approached the corner as quietly as she could.

"Hello?" She repeated as she looked around. "Where am I?" she asked the stranger around the corner. She looked around it and the light flicked off and a single blue bulb stared back at her. Before she could do anything else it ran up to her, screaming. She backed up against the cold concrete wall.

"Where am I?" she kept repeating. She was truly frightened now by these creatures. She turned to see the "empty shell" flicker on with a satisfied hum. It slowly advanced towards her.

"Where am I?" she demanded once more.

"ANALYZING BRAIN CAPACITY," the Dalek that backed her against the wall shouted.

"Where am I‽" she shouted at them as she began to cry.

"PERFORM A FULL CONVERSION," the empty Dalek shouted in a higher-pitched voice.

"PROCEED TO TAKING HER TO THE CONVERSION," the other commanded.

"Where am I‽" she shouted once more as the Daleks guided her away.

She arrived at a dark, dirty room with poor lighting. In the center was a cold medical table tilted upwards. It smelled of must and antiseptic like a hospital room that was never used. Surrounding the table were sharp objects and others to scare her. This had to be some cruel sick joke.

"Where am I‽" she shouted once more.

"PROCEED," one of the Daleks shouted at her.

"PROCEED," three others in the room shouted correspondingly. One of the Daleks came over and guided her to the table and pushed her against it.

"PROCEED," it said gravely. She was strapped in. She heard another hum and looked at a set of lights and vital machines next to her. She looked above herself as she heard a bang and a large piece of head equipment were swung over her head. A neck attachment was hooked up to her and tightened along with many others across her body. Many coils and wires stuck out of them.

"What are you doing?" she whispered sadly.

"TURNING YOU INTO A DALEK." One responded as if it were completely obvious.

"No," she shouted, "you can't!" She began to struggle. This was a nightmare come true.

"BEGIN," one of them said. The lights started to quickly flash as the conversion began.

"No," she shouted at them. "You can't I'm human!"

A flash of sparks erupted from around the room as the Daleks sat and watched. It was entertainment. They enjoyed her pain. She felt herself start to liquefy and felt herself begin to melt.

"I am human," she told them. Her voice changed as she said, "I am not Dalek; I am human. I am not Dalek." She repeated. She shouted her last words as a normal human, "I am human!"

Clara took in a deep breath as she shifted in bed a little. Oswin's last words echoed in her head as she turned it and exhaled. She felt somebody rubbing the back of hand soothingly. She tried to relax her tense muscles and give them a small rest after that dream's horrible outcome. She felt the hand move and the thumb rub her cheek as it wiped something away. Had she been crying? She felt the thumb move back to her hand and begin rubbing it gently again. She napped peacefully in the white duvet as she followed the traces he left with his thumb. She finally blinked awake and he cupped her head. He gave a small smile that she returned.

"Hello, Doctor," she whispered.

"Good morning, Clara," he whispered back, "how are you feeling?"

"Better."

"Good, the TARDIS finished wiping your memory so you should feel a lot better," he explained.

"Does this mean I can eat and drink things now?" Clara asked with a cocked brow.

"Why, are you hungry?" the Doctor asked in surprise.

"Yes!" Clara exclaimed. The Doctor shook his head.

"Alright, stay in bed then and I'll get you some breakfast. Don't move," he told her.

"I won't move a muscle," she responded.

"Good, I'll be right back. Try to get some rest," he told her as he walked out.

She gave a faint smile as he walked out. She snuggled beneath the warm duvet and gave a content sigh. She didn't know what it was but she felt strangely happy. Like all the troubling nightmares and the fear they brought was just gone. She looked around the room, feeling safe and secure. Like a loved one wrapping their arms around you in a warm embrace.

"Thank you." She quietly thanked the TARDIS for the comfort it was providing for the trouble it put her through. It made a sound that must have been a 'you're welcome'.

"Here we are, breakfast in bed." The Doctor exclaimed. Clara sat herself up and flattened the duvet. The Doctor carefully placed the tray down on her lap. He looked at her cautiously. "You're positive that you're hungry?"

"Yeah, I'm starving, why?" she asked him as she looked down at what food she had received. One pancake, two slices of bacon and a banana. It was a bit scarce for a breakfast.

"Nothing," he said putting on a fake smile to keep her from worrying. He placed his hand on her cheek and rubbed it with his thumb. "It's just that the last time you ingested something you got a bit…sick."

"I'm feeling fine, Doctor. Try not to get worried over me." Clara told him.

"I'll try," he said as he gave her a real smile. She returned it and began to cut the pancake. She ate everything in record time, taken that she had an empty stomach and was exhausted.

"So, Doctor," Clara asked him while eating the banana. "What time is it anyways? Outside, I mean."

"I don't know," he said looking at his watch, "2ish, why? You have somewhere to be?"

"I need to talk to you about something," she said grimly as she finished up the banana.

"What is it?" The Doctor asked her. She smiled mischievously.

"Not now, Chin. Let me get up and put on a kettle first; be a bit useful for once." She said as she shifted in bed.

"No, Clara, stay put. You're not getting up. You've been extremely helpful these past few days and you just need a small break." He told her.

"Doctor, I'm absolutely fine; I can get up and get my own tea," she told him.

"Or you could just tell me now and you could get back to sleep." He suggested. "I like that one better."'

"I don't, I've slept for days on end; I think I'm fine." She remarked.

"Why can't you just tell me here?"

"I'm not telling you until you let me up."

"Is it important?"

"A little bit, yeah."

The Doctor sighed in a bit of defeat. "Fine, let me clean up your mess first."

"Oi, I don't make messes you make messes." She said to him.

"Of course," he said as he picked up the tray. She gave a teasing smile at him and he left.

He quickly returned to the room. "Let me help you up." He insisted as Clara began to get out of bed.

"I'm fine, Doctor, calm down. You don't need to baby me." She told him off. He stepped back, a bit offended. She climbed out and looked at him. She was still in her clothes from Trenzalore. "See? Perfectly fine," she smiled at him. He gave a small smile back and held her hand.

They stood there for a bit, the moment perfect. For a moment they wished that time wouldn't move, even in the glorified snog box. She wanted to snog him right there and now for all that he had done to help her. Even if he was a bit overprotective but they would get over that bridge when they came to it.

* * *

The Doctor had insisted on making tea for her. He knew she was fully capable of doing it herself, but he didn't want her to burn herself or spill or any other event of the sort. She was sitting at the Maitland kitchen table, after insisting that they come here instead of staying at the TARDIS. He handed her the cup that she gratefully took in her small hands and he sat down on the side of the table opposite from her.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" The Doctor asked. He saw her bite her lip nervously.

"Gallifrey," she answered him.

"What about it?" He asked her as he began to drink his own tea. He didn't expect her to know much about his home planet, only tidbits of it.

"How do you sleep at night without remembering the Time War?" She asked him outright. He nearly spat out his tea. He swallowed and looked at her. Sure she read a book about the Time War, but that was only a single page. Why would she be remembering it anyway? Unless she was a…no, she couldn't have been. But what if she was? No, that would be impossible. That was all Clara was though, impossible.

She must have noticed the confusion and thought process being smeared across his face because Clara looked concerned.

"Doctor, is everything alright?" She asked.

"Yes, yes, everything is perfect," he said automatically. "I mean, no, no, everything is not perfect everything is-is-" he cut himself off at Clara's confused face. She was definitely worrying. He sighed and looked her in the eye. "Clara, were you a…Time Lady?" he finally hesitated.

"Yes," she answered him softly, her eyebrows rose.

"And you were on Gallifrey?" he asked her.

"Yes, I was." She told him. He rubbed his hands together as he thought.

"How much of the Time War do you remember?" The Doctor asked her.

"Most of it, I was there from start to end." She mused.

"What was the very beginning?" He asked her, checking to make sure she was right.

"Helping you steal the TARDIS." She said.

"That was you‽" he exclaimed. "But I-no, but-shut up." He told her as she let out a giggle. "It was you, wasn't it?"  
"One of the few times you've noticed me." She said.

He thought over what she was saying. More importantly, how does one react to this kind of situation? When you're alone for most of your life and you suddenly discover that you're not. He should be shouting his thanks for finally not being alone; for finding somebody who he could relate to. He obviously wasn't because it was _his_ past she was relating too.

"Clara, I-" he cut himself off as the door opened. Thank TARDIS for a distraction.

"If anyone's here, we're home!" Angie shouted. Artie's eyes caught on someone familiar and a wide smile spread across his face.

"Clara!" He shouted as he ran over and hugged her. She put an arm around him in a hug.

"Hey Artie," she smiled.

"Are you any better?" he asked with concern.

"Of course I'm better." She told him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm just checking," he said. She gave a small laugh.

"How long have you been up?" Angie asked curiously.

"I don't know, couple of hours?" Clara guessed. "Why?"

"Your boyfriend's keeping an even closer eye on you than before," she joked.

"He is not my boyfriend," Clara corrected. "He is also not-"she cut herself off when she noticed how he was staring. He was keeping a close eye. "Doctor, why are you looking at me like that?"

He snapped back into reality. "What? Nothing, I'm just thinking."

"Okay," Clara responded trying not to sound creeped out. She turned her attention to the kids. "So, you have any homework you need help with?"

"No, well, none that we need help with anyway," Angie said, although the face Artie was making begged to differ.

"Good, now you have more time to rest. Come on." The Doctor said grabbing her hand and stood up, trying to pull her up. He was in a rush to do more scans on her and test her on her Gallifreyan knowledge. She pulled it back down.

"Oi, you never answered my question," Clara said. She was going to get this answer even if it was going to kill him.

"Clara," the Doctor said cupping her face, "the Time War isn't an easy topic to talk about." She put her hands on his face as well.

"And Gallifrey isn't the easiest place to have dreams about." She talked back.

"What's the Time War?" Artie asked.

"What's Gallifrey?" Angie asked to correspond. Clara smiled and crossed her arms.

"I'm getting this conversation one way or another, so talk up Chin Boy." Clara said sipping her tea. The Doctor sighed and sat down again.

"Gallifrey is the planet I am from." The Doctor began. "And-" he paused, thinking of a way to have this backfire on Clara and get her to talk to him about it. "You know what? Clara knows a whole lot about Gallifrey, she can tell you about it." She almost choked on her tea.

"What?" she said in shock.

"Go on, tell them about Gallifrey." He urged her curiously. He wanted to see how much she knew, how much she had absorbed in his time stream. He needed to know whether he should be concerned. Clara cleared her throat.

"Gallifrey, kids, is the planet where the Doctor is from." She started to explain. "It is located in Kasterborous, which is some sort of constellation thing. The people who lived there were called Timelords, which is what species the Doctor is. It was destroyed, though, in the Last Great Time War."

"What was the 'Last Great Time War'?" Artie repeated. Clara looked at the Doctor for assurance and then turned away when he urged her on.

"The Last Great Time War was the biggest and bloodiest war in the universe. It was between the Time Lords and the Daleks." The kids knew the name, the Doctor had mentioned them before but they didn't know what they were. "It started because…" she stopped and didn't know whether to say the Doctor's name or not. "It started because a Time Lord was sent back to avert the creation or delay the Dalek creation. The Daleks declared war on the Time Lords and they both used time technology to fight throughout the galaxy and whole galaxies were destroyed in the process." She was simplifying it so the children would understand, leaving out important battles and such. "At the end of the war, Gallifrey was in such chaos that it didn't even matter anymore. So, someone came along and destroyed most of the Daleks, all but two Time Lords and Gallifrey. The two Time Lords that survived were the Doctor and the Master, who passed away a couple of years ago."

They were quiet for a moment as they tried to take it all in.

"You do remember all of it," the Doctor finally said in a quiet murmur.

"Yeah," she said. He fiddled with his hands and thumbs again in the silence. "So," she said breaking the silence and looking at the kids. "Go do your homework. The Doctor and I will be done in just a second."

"But-" Angie immediately started to fight. She stopped as Clara began to give her a look that said to do as she was told. She gave in to her commands and the two ran upstairs to try to wait the others out.

"Clara," the Doctor finally said. She looked at him.

"My silence is your cue." She said.

"Nothing," he muttered. "Just try not to think about Gallifrey too much."

"You don't have to be lonely, you know." She told him. He looked at her. "You could talk about it. I mean, I know what you're talking about now so I can help."

He considered snapping back at her, but that was too harsh. She had just gotten back from his time stream and it was obvious she was confused and needed help sorting things out. He considered saying something comforting but thought against that too. He didn't want her to become concerned and think she was frail. She wasn't frail; she just had a lot to absorb right now was all. He decided what was best now was to sit there and say nothing. Saying nothing had never hurt anyone before. So that's what he did; he sat there and did nothing.

* * *

**I sincerely apologize if my American bled through and into the writing; I tried my best! I also apologize for any bothersome grammatical errors I've made (I'm trying to work on that!) and any "blank spots" where dramatic punctuation (?,!) are supposed to be. I use interrobangs when I write and those happen to be the spots they are supposed to be in. Sorry about that. I also apologize if the characters are a bit OOC, or if it seems that I rushed the ending a bit (oops). Do not expect frequent updates and such. These things take me awhile to write (I like making things long, can you tell?) so don't get too antsy. Thanks and please review!**


	2. I New New York is No Fun

**Hey, Weesie here! I might possibly have an Author's note at the end so become very excited. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who**

* * *

The Doctor bounced up onto the Maitland porch, knocking and ringing the doorbell excitedly. He had a big day planned out for him and Clara. Oh, such a big one. And, of course, he'd make sure she was absolutely, positively safe 100% of the time. He didn't want to stress her out after she just recovered from the mental fatigue that Trenzalore had given her. No running for Clara Oswald today, Doctor's orders.

He began to go through the checklist in his head of the things that would fill the day. Hopefully, nothing bad would happen like it normally does. He almost knocked on Clara when she opened the door. He was deep in his thoughts.

Clara cleared her throat to catch his attention. He instantly snapped up and looked down at her. "Doctor?" she asked him. He gave a happy smile.

"Yes, Clara. Beautiful, funny, witty Clara," He exclaimed as he remembered something. "I am going to take you to New New York in the year 5,000,000,106." He told her. He started to bounce while he waited for her response.

"Did you just call me 'beautiful'?" Clara asked him.

"What? No, of course not, you're just a friend." He told her. Since when did he like Clara Oswald as a friend? But wouldn't he be betraying River someway if he moved on too fast? No, River was dead, and he could just be mates with Clara right? Just like how he was best mates with Rose. Oh, bad example; he and Rose were a bit more than best mates. He looked down at Clara's bemused face.

"What? I don't have something on my face, do I?" He said as he slapped his face to check.

"Isn't this usually the part where you go on about how it was actually the fifteenth New York built? Or were you going to save that until we got there?" She asked him.

"Oi, you're not supposed to know about that. You're supposed to be impressed," the Doctor complained waving his finger at her.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I can't help it if I jumped into your time stream and I sort know where you like to bring people on dates."

"It's not a date," the Doctor asserted.

"Then what were we going to do once we got to 'New New New New New New New New New New New New New New New New York'?" She questioned him. He looked a bit impressed as he counted 'new' sixteen times.

"Well…er…I was going to show you a field," he said as he recited his list. She nodded to what he said. "And then I was going to show you some tourist sites. Next, I was going to take you to a quaint little restaurant that's nestled in close to the city. After dinner, I was going to bring you back to the TARDIS and home just in time for bed." He smiled.

"Sounds like a date to me." Clara remarked.

"It's not though. It's somewhere safe for us to go until I'm absolutely sure that you've completely recovered." The Doctor complained. "I've already saved it twice; it should be fine."

"Isn't that a bad thing?" Clara asked.

"What? No. I don't think so, it should be fine." He insisted.

"What if you have to save it a third time?" Clara pointed out to the Timelord.

"Oh, oh," the Doctor exclaimed as he reached a realization. "That's a good point," he said. "I don't suppose you have any better ideas on where to go?"

"What? You think I paid attention in class on Gallifrey?" She questioned him.

"You didn't pay attention in class" He exclaimed. Clara Oswald was perfect, absolutely perfect. She was brave, pretty, and smart enough to have paid attention in class. What was so scary about the Academy?

"Not enough to know that there's a safe place in the universe with you." She told him.

"I see what you did there," he smiled. She returned it with one of her own.

"Is that the Doctor?" George shouted from the kitchen. He looked at the door to see the Doctor outside. "Well don't just stand there, come in!" George invited him. He stepped inside.

He could smell tea being made in the kitchen. He smiled and shook George's hand in a warm, friendly gesture. The man put on an enthusiastic smile.

"You don't look a day older," Mr. Maitland told him. When the Doctor had first confessed that he was a time-traveling space alien, Clara's boss didn't want to believe him. But, as time grew and the children had talked about their own adventure with the Doctor, Mr. Maitland accepted it as fact. The Doctor could tell he was a bit fascinated by him and his almost infinite amount of knowledge. They didn't run into each other much though, so they never got properly acquainted.

"I am, surprisingly a couple days older. I didn't take the full shortcut to here; in fact, I may have taken the longer-cut." He explained. Suddenly, George's watch went off and he began to shuffle out.

"Sorry, I'd love to stay and chat but I have to go. I'll talk to you later then, Doctor." He said as he left.

"So," the Doctor exclaimed as he clapped his hands together. "Are you ready to go to New New York?"

"No." Clara said with disinterest.

"No?" The Doctor repeated. It was like he had never heard that ghastly word before. What did 'no' mean? Was it a part of some new language just recently invented?

"No," Clara repeated. "New New York is no fun. All the people there know you. I want to go someplace that actually is new; with danger lurking about and a man with a silly bowtie and big chin there to attract it." She walked up to him and straightened his bowtie. She was awfully close.

_Dammit!_ He thought to himself._ Get a hold of yourself, this is Clara. You can't think about Clara that way, she's just a friend. It's not like she'd like you back._

Clara looked up at him. Her beautiful brown eyes wide with wonder, excitement, and an unnamed curiosity. Her perfect lips were parted in a modest little smile. Her eyebrows were relaxed and set plain on her face. He could smell the lilac shampoo that she had used on her silky brown hair. She was absolutely breath-taking.

"So, where are the kids?" He asked as he tried to divert his attention away from her.

"School, it is a Wednesday." She explained. He nodded.

"So where do you want to go then?" He shrugged. Think of anything but Clara.

"I can't," she finally admitted, biting her lip nervously.

"Why not?" the Doctor asked flustered.

"Because it's been two weeks, Chin. I didn't think you would come." She told him with a hint of agitation in her voice. "You're stupid snogbox must've overshot."

"Don't call her 'stupid', Clara, or she'll never like you." He scolded her.

"Well maybe your ship could stop overshooting." She snapped. He looked down and rubbed his hands together nervously. He could sense her face loosen as she felt guilty for her snap. She must have been very lonely without him.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. She hugged him sympathetically.

"It's alright as long as you tell your snogbox to shape up." She said. He gave a small smile as she held his hand when she started to pull away. "Come on, I have some things for you to help me with."

"This is the last chore?" The Doctor asked her. She had the Doctor run around doing errands and chores with her. He acted like a giant three-year old in the store, but instead of wanting toys and such he wanted bowties, a Stetson, Jammie Dodgers, a toaster, a pair of napkin holders, and 3 washers to make some odd contraption of his. He dusted the keepsakes (which she had to supervise him in doing so), mowed the lawn twice, and trimmed the bushes so that they were absolutely flat, watered the flowers, swept the driveway, organized the house, and helped her put away the groceries. It had only been two hours, which were mostly consumed by the shopping.

"Yep," she said in both thankfulness and regret. Could he actually sit still for five minutes once they were finished? Or was she going to have to think of/assign him more jobs afterwards?

"Okay, so where do you want me to plug it in?" He asked her as he grabbed the plug to the vacuum and hopped around her. She stepped back in surprise at his eagerness and closeness. He really wanted to vacuum. They had already done the upstairs; all they needed to do now was vacuum the downstairs.

"There should be a plug under the window." Clara told him.

"Got it!" he shouted as he swung up and almost hit Clara in the face.

"Careful; you could poke somebody's eye out with that big chin of yours." She teased.

"Stop making fun of my chin!" He shouted at her rubbing his chin. "That's the eighth time today you've insulted it." She shrugged and turned on the vacuum.

She rhythmically pulled and pushed it across the carpet while the dirt clanked around in the machine contently as it was sucked in. She did her best to ignore the Doctor as he leaned over her shoulder and watched her technique. She stopped vacuuming and looked over her shoulder to see his lack of personal space shining bright and noticeable. She turned the vacuum cleaner off.

"Is there something wrong with my technique?" She asked him as she spun around on her heels and placed her hands on her hips.

"Yes, you're doing it all wrong!" He exclaimed as he threw his hands into the air. How could you vacuum a floor incorrectly?

"Oh really?" she replied.

"Yes."

"Then show me." She gestured towards the vacuum cleaner and giving the Doctor room to do his magic. He looked at the vacuum and then her with confidence before cracking his neck and straightening his bowtie. She had to bite her knuckle to keep herself prepared for what was about to be ensued.

He switched it on and began his array of quick movements. He quickly jabbed it back and forth and turned it around in circles. It was like he was some bird trying to attract a mate. She looked at him a bit more confused and took the vacuum from him.

"No, you're doing it even worse." She told him. She did the slow, rhythmic pulling and pushing again. "You're going to roll over all the dirt and get it stuck in the carpet if you do it like that."

"But you're only sucking the dirt up one way," he complained. He grabbed her by the waist and prodded her sides making her give a small yelp. She quickly spun around and the two lost their balance, falling onto one another. Clara looked at the Doctor in the eye as he sheepishly stared back at her. They awkwardly stayed that way for a while until the Doctor got in closer and made one of the biggest decisions of his life. He kissed Clara Oswald. Not one of those pecks on the head he usually gave her but an actual kiss, on her mouth. Her heart was officially stolen.

She got up as quickly as she could and clutched the vacuum. She couldn't bring herself to move it. Sure, she had kissed him before. But that was only once, and in one of her echoes.

Why would he do that to her anyways? He knew how she felt when he toyed with her emotions like that, or at least she hoped he did. She knew how he felt when she did it.

He sat up and licked his lips like he couldn't get the taste of her out of them. He rubbed his hands together nervously as he thought over what to do next. He opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. He stood up slowly, straightened his bowtie, and continued to fidget.

She began to vacuum again but slower. She still had to finish this final chore and then she could shoo him away for good. Then she could focus and tuck the memory away at the bottom of a messy filing cabinet of things she would never open up again. She felt his presence loom next to her and watch the vacuum quietly with her.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. She blinked away and looked at him. Not with anger or remorse or even a tad bit upset. She gave him a look of pure happiness, joy, bliss and awe. "I didn't realize that it would upset you." He continued not making contact with her even as she stopped the vacuum and switched it off.

She smiled and grabbed him by the bowtie and pulled him forwards. She proceeded to firmly plant her lips on his. His arms flailed for a moment before resting and putting his hands on her face to gently pull her closer. She felt him run his fingers through her soft hair.

When they pulled away she looked into the Doctor's eyes. The green specks were wide with surprise and amazement. A hint of confusion plagued them but they sparkled in wonder. She had never seen the old man's eyes gleam so brightly. She gave him a teasing smile.

"There," she said, "that's a bit more like it." He gave her a warm smile back.

"Oh, you," he exclaimed before grabbing her. She gave out a happy shriek and giggled as he kissed her temple and head while trying to find her lips.

"Down boy," she told him with a laugh before breaking from his grasp. "Let's finish vacuuming before you try to do anything else."

"Hey, you kissed me!" He protested.

"After you kissed me," she argued. He sighed in defeat and beat Clara back to the vacuum.

"HA!" He shouted as he flipped the switch and began wildly vacuuming in circles again. Clara tried to take hold of it from him and vacuum it her way. She succeeded shortly before the Doctor swooped in and tried to take it from her. They fought over the vacuum for another hour before they deemed the floor finished.

The Doctor plopped himself on the couch and patted the cushion for Clara to join him.

"Just a bit, let me put the vacuum away." She told him as she wheeled it away. He smiled his response and lifted his hands in defense. She rushed back into the room and sat on the couch next to him when she had finished.

"Have fun?" He asked her. She shrugged. His smile grew even wider and he grabbed Clara to pull her in closer. He kissed the top of her head.

She questioned herself whether or not he would really like her like that. After a bit of debate she decided nothing would come from it. Practically everyone who had traveled with the Doctor had kissed him. How was she to decide how he felt?

"Clara," he started, "I've been meaning to tell you something." Oh no, here it comes. "I-I've been meaning to tell you this for a while now."

Don't fall in love. Don't fall in love, don't fall in love. No matter what he did or does or will do, don't fall in love.

"Clara Oswald," he said. He looked into her eyes with fear and a sort of touchy feely look in his. Hers were wide with astonishment and the same amount of fear, although she was most likely doing her best to keep her poker face on. "I love you." Dammit.

She felt her world fall around her. Her eyes filled with sorrow and longing as the rule she had followed for so long was destroyed as she openly tore it to bits. They reflected most of her fear. And then her world rebuilt itself, but with a little more Doctor. It was beautiful. Her face lifted as she gave a happy smile and her eyes sparked and ignited with joy. Oh, how she loved him so. She let out a small one-syllable laugh while she felt something damp roll down her cheek. She looked away from him sheepishly.

"I don't know why I'm crying," she laughed looking back at him. He placed a gentle hand on her cheek and caressed it.

"I do," he smiled back at her. The moment was so intense, and their gaze locked on each other so tightly that they didn't notice the kids come through the door. Angie had shushed her younger brother and they tiptoed into the hall and closer so they could get a full view of what was going on. Angie slowly lifted her phone.

The Doctor and Clara leaned in closer to one another, still not aware of the children standing behind them. They gave each other a gentle kiss. It was peaceful, serene and guided them away from any distractions in the room. They were the only ones in the universe. Until they heard the camera sound on Angie's phone. Then they were very much aware of the fact that they weren't alone. They quickly pulled away and looked at Angie; Clara wiped her cheek in the process.

The sheer awkwardness was far too much to handle.

"I knew he was your boyfriend." Angie scoffed before walking into the kitchen breaking the silence. Artie looked at Clara and then his sister and followed her into the kitchen.

"I forgot to ask: how's your head been?" He asked Clara as she started to get up.

"Just fine," she said as she stared off after the kids.

"And what is, "just fine"?" He asked her.

"You know, just the occasional nightmares. It's almost nothing now." She said. He smiled.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that."

"Come on, Chin." She said helping him up. "If you're going to be my official boyfriend then you're going to help me around here a bit more."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

**Ugh...I feel like this chapter took longer than it should've to write. Onto my list of apologies:**

**I apologize if it seems rushed, cheesy, or unbearably awkward. If there is less whouffle that meets your average standards. If there are any grammatical or spelling issues. I apologize for not owning Doctor Who. Etc. etc. etc.**

**I'm a little upset with this chapter because I realized I couldn't do anything as beautiful as the Prologue ever again because the rest are mainly short oneshots with many exceptions. (It's like a series sort of, kind of, not really: A collection of oneshots surrounding a certain plot). Anyways, all I wanted was them vacuuming so I did a oneshot of them vacuuming (I rushed this one because I wanted to update it). Reviews are very much appreciated and I might be possibly willing to take a few prompts. -eye twitch, eye twitch- (fun fact: I can't wink.)**

**I'll try to post the next one as quickly as I physically can. I very much enjoy the idea of it. I hope you will as well! :D**


	3. I Swampity Swamp Swamp

**Ugh. Sorry this so late, there's an author's note at the end. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.**

* * *

"Wrestle any crocs' today, John?" A man with a thick Australian accent laughed. He was large with a layer of fat on top of his muscles. He had dark brown hair and a slight beard. He had a long shirt rolled up to his elbows and thin jeans that reached down to the heel of his boots. A trucker's cap rested on top of his slightly balding head.

"No, Uncle." The teenager sitting below him brooded. Unlike his uncle, John had an American accent. He was a scrawny thing, with the plaid shirt sleeves rolled half-way up the upper part of his arm. He wore rubber overalls and a pair of black rubber boots on his feet. He fidgeted uncomfortably in them. His sandy hair had grown out like a bush and was plastering itself to his sweaty forehead. His thick eyebrows creased over his blue eyes as the blazing sun shone in them. He was at least 16, if not 17.

"Eh, I'm not expecting that behavior from the son of my brother." He hissed smacking the back of the boy's head.

"I don't want to be here," the boy harshly whispered back.

"Yes, you do. Now go do what your family does best." He said pointing to a spear-like gun. "And kill some crocs'." The boy stared daggers back at him. He wasn't going out there on the peat and bog. The water was probably just as warm as the day and not to mention there were crocodiles most likely wanting to eat his drop-dead gorgeous face.

"Dad didn't," John pointed out. His uncle growled and muttered a string of curses under his breath before walking over and grabbing the spear.

"Want something done right, gotta do it yourself." He muttered. He jumped off the boat into the peat.

Something was moving, and it was in the peat bogs. That was impossible though, it's not like peat was floating on water. It still grew on soil, albeit soft soil, but soil nonetheless.

"Stop, Uncle, stop! There's something in the peat." He shouted at him. His uncle spun around and looked at him in disgust. He was several feet away from the boat already.

"Stupid kid, nothing can be in the peat." He sneered. Then the moving stopped and John calmed down for a moment.

Then something jumped out of it, soil and bog flying everywhere. His uncle looked up at the dark figure towering above him. It was dark, almost black and had glowing green eyes. Its skin was shiny and flecked with scales. It reached out and grabbed the boy's uncle by the collar. His eyes were wide with shock.

In one swoop it dragged him back into the peat. John looked out at the bog to see it was clean and covered up, like nothing had happened. All he could hear were the hiss of angry crocodiles in the beat of the sun.

The Doctor let out a hearty and triumphant laugh as he jumped out of the police box.

"I think we finally made it!" He shouted to his companion. She poked her head out. She was wearing sunglasses and a short sundress.

"A little more wasteland than I thought it would be." She commented. She looked up. "I thought you said there were 3 suns."

"There are," the Doctor told her. She pointed up at the sky with a matter-of-fact face.

"There's only one."

"Well that can't be right," he said whipping out his sonic and analyzing the sky. He looked at the screwdriver and then bent down, picking up the dirt in his hands. He rubbed it with his fingers and licked it.

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't eat dirt anymore." Clara said as she bent down to eye-level with him.

"We did, didn't we?" He mused before shrugging. "Oh well." He sniffed it.

"So, we're not on a desert in a far-off planet?" she asked him.

"Sort of, we're on the Boeshane Peninsula during the '40s, I think." The Doctor told her.

Clara sighed, "Let's go find out what's in Boeshane then."

"Uh, Doctor?" Clara said looking for reassurance. She had lost the sunglasses a bit ago.

"Yes, Clara?" He said over-enthusiastically. He put his arm on her shoulder.

"When you said 'get a drink from the watering-hole and interrogate the locals' I didn't think that you actually meant, 'get a drink from the watering-hole and interrogate the locals'." She told him as they looked at the long pub in front of them. It was in almost the middle of nowhere, firmly planted in the loose sand. It had been built of logs and poor-filtered windows. With proper, swinging doors. It was like someone had plucked it out of an old Western cowboy movie and thrown it down here.

"What do you mean?" The Doctor shot her a nervous expression.

"Doesn't this place look a bit, I dunno, run-down?" She asked him. Her eyes were specifically set on a pole that supported the roof with absolutely nothing wrong with it. What was wrong with it was the figure leaning against it that, of course, the Doctor couldn't see.

"Clara, this is the standard for watering-holes around here. In fact, this may actually be above the standards." He tried to reassure her by squeezing her arm. She let out a small sigh and started looking around the pub. She just couldn't make eye-contact with the figure leaning on the post. If she didn't acknowledge him then maybe he would just, float away, or something. That's how she noticed the hunched over silhouette at the side of the pub. Usually she would let this go unnoticed, but the man looked so young.

"Doctor," she said urgently prodding him and tugging his arm to follow her. He looked around dazed and followed where her finger pointed.

There sat a teenager wearing a tan Stetson. He had a long-sleeved plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows and long jeans reaching the heel of his boot. He had a red scarf wrapped around him. He looked like a cowboy without the chaps. He took another swig from the bottle in hand.

She looked at the Doctor expectantly and he just shrugged the thought away. Clara rolled her eyes at him and walked up to the kid. She crouched down and looked at the kid. He hadn't noticed her. She cleared her throat to catch his attention.

"What?" He growled with agitation in his voice. The Doctor decided to move behind Clara, just in case this kid pulled something funny.

"Just wondering, if you were all right?" She asked him. He looked at her with complete and utter disgust with a curl of his lip.

"Come on, Clara. Let's go," the Doctor said putting his hand on her shoulder and guiding her away from the boy.

They walked into the pub and immediately turned some heads.

Clara leaned in and whispered to the Doctor, "Something tells me they don't like new people."

"Or they're just surprised that a woman just walked in here in very revealing clothes." He told her. Her eyes widened in insecurity and she clutched his arm tightly as she followed him up to the bar. The man at the counter was cleaning glasses.

"Two drinks," the Doctor said waving two fingers in the air. Clara looked at him in surprise and shook her head. "No? Okay, forget the drinks." He said leaning in. "We're trying to find something. Do you know anyone who could help?"

"What are you trying to find?" The bartender asked him in a gruff voice.

"I don't know; anything!" The Doctor said with a wave of his arms. "Meteor showers, crazy lady next door, strange disappearance, murders."

"Murders?" A buff man with a thick beard asked the Doctor as he turned around.

"Yes," the Doctor replied meekly. The man looked around and leaned in closer to the Doctor and his companion.

"Croc hunter went missing while he was out hunting with his nephew. Everyone believes his nephew stabbed him with the spear." He said making a sound effect and a finger movement representing the spear. "Feel sorry for the lad, just orphaned a couple months back. Used to be a good kid, went to school."

"Do you know where he is now?" Clara asked the man. He shrugged.

"Probably out back drinking, can't miss him." The man said giving them directions. They nodded their thanks and headed outside back towards the back of the pub.

The figure that had leaned against the post pushed off and looked after Clara, who was trying to rush away as quickly as she could.

"Clara," he shouted after her. She ignored him and squeezed the Doctor's arm harder as they moved on. Night was falling and it started to get cooler. They reached the side again where they saw the kid continue to sit. The two time-travelers shot each other weary looks before looking at the kid again.

"Excuse me," the Doctor said trying to get the boy's attention. The boy rolled his eyes.

"What do you want now?" He said with an eye-roll. They squatted down to eye-level with the kid.

"Are you the boy whose uncle died not so long ago?" The Doctor asked the kid.

"You come to laugh at my story like the rest of that lazy ol' lot?" He said. He lifted the bottle to his lips but Clara grabbed it before he could sip it.

"I'll take that, if you don't mind." Clara said.

"All yours," he sneered before letting her take the bottle from him.

"We're not here to laugh at your story," the Doctor told the kid, leaning in. "We're here to listen."

The time-travelling duo walked back to the pub before dawn licked the horizon. They walked to the back and saw the boy sleeping at the side of the pub. The Doctor walked up and slightly nudged him awake.

"The story?" he insisted.

"My uncle was a hunter, and he always drags me along to go hunting with him." The boy gulped. The three were sitting at the side of the pub while the boy told the story. "That week we went out to the bog to go hunting. Of course, I argued with him over who would catch the crocs' and he went out on the peat as always," he looked to the ground. "And there was this thing, moving under the peat and I shouted at my uncle but it had already got him. It jumped out of the peat, snatched him up, and brought him back down not leaving a single trace behind it."

The Doctor and Clara exchanged looks before looking back at the desperate kid.

"Could you show us the peat?" Clara asked him. The boy looked at him with round blue eyes.

"You believe me?" He asked them. "That's great! Fantastic! C'mon, let's get going."

They walked along the road towards an area where it gradually got wetter and more swamped. It smelled heavily of sulfur.

"Don't you have a car?" Clara asked him. His face scrunched up in confusion.

"Who could afford a car?" He asked her. Clara shut her mouth and just looked at him in confusion. She leaned in towards the Doctor, who was holding her hand.

"Doctor?" She asked him.

"Yes, Clara?" He responded.

"Why do they not have cars?" She whispered very quickly.

"I told you, Clara. This is the '40s, cars haven't been brought over yet." He explained to her. She looked at him with her brow creased and confusion spread across her face like jam, but not as messy. A look of worry entered his face.

"We're not thinking about the same '40s are we?" He asked her. She scrunched her face up like she had just bit into a lemon. "Boeshane Peninsula, 5043?" He told her. She shook her head.

"Oh, well," he sighed.

Once they had entered the swampy forest it only took the boy ahead to guide the way to a small wooden shack on the edge of the swamp. In the river, tied down to a pole, was a wooden boat.

Clara glanced nervously around and pursed her lips. It was hot, and she knew he'd be there. He was always there. Only this time she couldn't run from him. She'll be stuck in a boat with the Doctor and some kid who'll probably think she's lost it. She put on her best brave face and waited for the kid to come back out.

Eventually he did, with an armload.

"Here, let me help you with that." The Doctor said helping him.

"Thanks," the boy murmured as they threw everything in an organized mess into the boat. The kid didn't even look like he had a hangover let alone act.

The Doctor stared at Clara apprehensively. She held her arms and stood awkwardly away from the boat like she didn't want to get in. Of course, she didn't want to get in but she never was going to admit that. The Doctor walked up closer to her.

"Come on, Clara," he smiled holding out his hand. She looked nervous but grabbed it and he pulled her close to him. They got into the boat and the kid started to push and row them away from the shore.

"I have a question." Clara piped up after they were 15 minutes off the shore.

"Ask away," the boy smiled.

"How does a school boy end up living with his big-game hunting uncle?" She asked.

He looked at her resentfully as a sharp pang entered and clouded his mind. "My dad died and my brother disappeared when I was 14." He looked down. "I was orphaned a few months later when my mum died and sent over to live with my uncle."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. He gave a smile and looked up.

"Don't be, it's not your fault is it?" he told her. She gave a small smile back. He nodded over to a boggy shore. "That's the place over there." He moved closer to the bog so that the side of the boat just stroked the side peat. The enthusiastic young teenager jumped out and pulled the boat up and on the peat as the Doctor and Clara hopped out.

He grabbed a gun and tossed another one to the Doctor.

"The place is just up ahead, I'll show it to you." He said before walking forwards. The Doctor gave Clara an excited smile before running after the boy ahead of him. Clara slowly walked after him but stopped as she heard a voice.

"Clara," it said. "Clara, please. This is getting really childish. Can't we just talk?"

She regrettably turned around to see the Tenth Doctor standing in the boat. Couldn't he just leave her alone for once?

She shook her head. Don't talk to him. That was her new rule: don't talk the Tenth Doctor.

"Clara, just listen to me. I love you, and you love me. I need to know why though," he told her. She stumbled away from him. "I can't live knowing that I may have hurt you. Why did you leave me? What did I do wrong?"

"Get away from me," she finally said to him. "Leave me alone, I don't ever want to see you again." She walked away faster and turned around only to see his face just a few inches from hers. She let out a shriek and fell backwards. He stood over her. She didn't pay any attention to the Doctor, her Doctor, as he ran up and kneeled beside her. He repeatedly shouted her name trying to grasp her attention. She didn't snap out of it until the teenager jogged up and into the Tenth Doctor, having him fade away.

"It's probably just the heat getting to her," he told the Doctor. He took the Stetson off and put it on her head to keep the sun out. "You know how people get with that sort of thing."

"Not my Clara," the Doctor whispered back. His grip around her was tight as he cradled her in his arms. He took the screwdriver out of his jacket pocket and scanned her, checking her vitals and such. He snapped it shut and lifted her off the ground bridal-style back to the boat. He gently laid her down and scanned her again.

"Doctor, I-" she began before he cut her off.

"Quiet, Clara," he told her.

"Excuse me?" she sassed back.

"Sorry," he said snapping his attention back to her. He put his hands on her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb. "But you need to rest right now; this heat isn't doing you any good now either."

"Why? What's wrong with me?" She asked him.

"Nothing to worry about." He told her as he grabbed one of the waters in a skin flask. "Drink some water, stay hydrated. That'll help you recover." He poured some hot water into her unwilling mouth before she choked a bit and he retreated.

"Recover from what?" She asked him.

"Nothing, just rest and you should be fine." He said giving her a kiss before heading back with the teenager. "Be back in a mo'."

She sighed, trying not to worry herself. What could be wrong with her that the Doctor couldn't tell her?

The Doctor followed the young teenage boy out to the middle of the peat field.

"This is where the monster grabbed him." He said. The Doctor studied the ground closely. Bending down, licking and sniffing the undisturbed dirt. He took out his sonic and began to buzz over the area. "What is that thing?"

"Screwdriver," he told him. "It was made especially for me above Earth over three thousand years ago in my time machine."

"You've got to be joking," the boy said in disbelief.

"Unfortunately I'm not." He lifted it up and read the synopsis. He stood up and soniced the ground, making a hatch lift downwards. "Down we go," he muttered.

The boy quickly went down first in curiosity. The Doctor hesitated for a minute. He shot a glance at Clara before going down the hole. He sighed, slightly disappointed that she wouldn't be with him but forced him to shrug it off.

He hopped into the ground and soniced the hatch to close it. After a few steps he jumped the rest of the short way down, almost knocking the kid down. They shook the dirt off of them. The kid took an awkward look around in confusion.

"Where are we?" he asked. The Doctor looked around in shock.

The place was humid and hot. Like air was being suctioned from outside, through the bog, and into the area below them. The place reeked of the ventilation system, like a mix of dirt and reptile urine. Swamp water echoed throughout the place as it puddled the floor below it. It was dirty and appeared to not have been mopped up in a long time as it seeped through their shoes. The Doctor buzzed his screwdriver around, using it like a flashlight. He stopped with a face of fear plastered on his face.

"What is it?" the boy pestered him.

"Bigger than I thought it would be." He muttered.

"And what is it?" The boy asked him. After a moment of silence he loudly repeated, "And what is it?"

"I don't know."

"You know, I don't think we've been properly introduced," the Doctor said out loud as they walked down a corridor. He had dropped his gun long ago. "I'm the Doctor by the way."

"John Barrowman," the kid informed with a smile.

"Well, John Barrowman, I hope you haven't minded the…" he waved his hands around in confusion. "Spacey…thingy…"

"Not at all," he said with a smile to smug. The Doctor tried not to be creeped out by this.

"Right."

They stopped at a metal door with dried blood spread aimlessly across the door like it was jam. The Doctor and John shot each other nervous glances.

"Geronimo," the Doctor whispered before using his sonic to open the door.

What stood above John's uncle was a behemoth-type creature with his blood shining across his scales. They looked with gaping mouths.

"RUN!" The Doctor shouted as the two made a mad dash across the corridor.

The beast let out a roar before charging after the two. It was big and bulky, but it was fast. They heard its large steps thump closer and closer to them. And then the end grew closer and there was no escape. The thumping stopped and they heard a low rumbling noise and a cold breath on their back. They slowly turned around to see the reptilian creature standing right behind them.

They had been chained to the wall, hanging by their arms.

The creature was tall, thick and covered head to toe in black plate-like scales. It had bright green, human-sized eyes that reflected just the smallest speck of light. It had dull teeth as well that were most likely extremely sharp at some point. It didn't have any claws and stood upright. Once the shackles were secured, the creature grunted to itself and walked away.

"What is that?" John asked.

"A Chula, it is a highly advanced alien race native to Chula." The Doctor muttered trying to lift himself up but failing miserably. "They're extinct though, went extinct during the Time War. They're usually extremely peaceful unless they're provoked." He slumped down and finally gave up on his mission. "That one is old actually, far past its prime. Usually, Chulas are a bluish colour with some chest hair on them. That one's teeth are about to rot out too. Beautiful creatures Chulas-"

"How are we going to get out?" the annoyed boy interrupted the Doctor's ramblings.

"Well, if I could manage to reach my screwdriver then I could unlock the shackles." He hauled himself up in several grunts and fiddled with his pocket until his eyes went wide and he slumped back down.

"What?"

"I may or may not have dropped my sonic screwdriver."

"Then what's our plan?" He asked. He shot John an apprehensive look.

"Wait until Clara gets here?" He suggested.

He sighed, "She'll never find us. Heck, I don't even know where we are!"

"Chula warship." The Doctor told him.

"Thanks," the teen mumbled with a roll of his eyes.

Clara tried not to look at the sun while she grabbed another bottle to drink from. She was a bit upset at the Doctor for leaving her when she was completely fine. It wasn't like she couldn't handle herself or anything! Her revenge to him and that kid was drinking all the water that they had packed. It was a perfect plan. Until, of course, she had to pee but that would be solved when the time arose.

She furrowed her brow in confusion when she heard a hissing noise coming from the peat. She turned to see the bog open up and for the hissing noise to continue even louder. She sat up and stared at it, debating what to do. She decided that it wouldn't hurt to investigate. The Doctor wouldn't know would he? In fact, he would encourage this sort of harmless curiosity.

She got up and slowly walked to the hole. It looked like a one of those ventilation thing-a-ma-jigs on the back of an air conditioner. She stood several feet away from it, so that if she got too close it wouldn't suck her in by accident. She heard another hissing, only not from the shaft.

She turned her head to see a crocodile hissing at her, about to snap. She took several steps back, about to step on the shaft. It moved closer, and snapped its jaws hungrily at her. She took a few more steps back in fright and was now standing directly above the ventilation shaft. It buckled under her and snapped beneath her weight. She screamed as she tossed and traveled through the tubes.

She landed feet first, and then toppled on her backside. She seethed in pain.

"Ow," she whispered. She sucked the air through her as she slowly sat up and looked around. The ship had many flashing lights and was an orange colour on the inside. She got up and put pressure on her ankle, immediately hissing in pain. She sat down in the captain's chair and pursed her lips thinking of what to do.

"Computer, find the Doctor." She ordered it.

"No doctor found. Would you like the nanogenes to repair damaged tissue?" It asked her.

She thought it through. "Yes, please." She told it. Immediately a flash of yellow came out of nowhere and found their way to Clara's ankle, healing it. She gave a small laugh at the sight. Once they were gone and she was healed, she tried to think of a way to save the Doctor.

"Computer, find Time Lords." She barked at it.

"One Time Lord detected, in prisoner carrier." It hummed. Clara sighed excitedly at the thought of adventure and sprung out of the chair and out towards the prison cell.

Once she exited the Captain's room she slowed down as she took in the ship's breathtaking architecture. She slowly stepped through the corridor, looking around the area. It was very dark and the only thing that illuminated her path was a soft green glow.

She let out a small shriek as she miscalculated her step and sloshed into the water. She gulped as she felt the water seep through her shoes.

"Doctor?" She whispered harshly trying to find her lost alien. She continued sloshing onwards, trying to ignore the discomfort in her socks when she noticed something ahead.

It was a light. Not just any light, matter of fact, this was the light that was emitting the green glow. She stepped forward cautiously, not wanting to get any more wet than she already was. Once she was a safe distance from the object she looked down to see the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. She quickly snatched it up from the foul-smelling water, turning it off so it's incessant buzzing wouldn't give her away. Forgetting everything she was trying to avoid, consciously or not, she began to run. Making it to a cross-way she stopped when she heard a growling. She slowly turned her head to see a creature look like it was about to pounce on her. She slowly took a few steps back. She turned around and sprinted down the corridor as it charged and galloped behind her.

She saw a door, and with a burst of energy she reached it. She repeatedly smashed the buttons next to the door, anxiously hoping it would open. Once it did she dived inside and quickly shut it after her. Panting, she leaned against the door and slid down.

"Hello, love," a voice said from her left. She opened her eyes in confusion and looked at the Doctor hanging from the wall.

"Doctor?" She asked him, getting up and rushing to undo the shackles. She flicked the screwdriver, trying to figure out how to work it.

"So, what have you been doing?" the Doctor asked her.

"Oh, you know, normal stuff. Being chased by a giant crocodile monster. What about you?" She quickly asked as she heard a thumping on the door.

"Oh, you know, just hanging around." He told her with a smile.

"That wasn't funny," she said as she soniced the shackles. He put on a straighter face.

"No, no! Of course not, it wasn't funny at all," the Doctor agreed with her.

Once she had gotten him out of the shackles he hopped down and snatched the screwdriver out of her hands. She looked at him in a bit of surprise at his quickness to get his gadget back. He buzzed the shackles on the kid who dropped down with a triumphant humph.

"Hello," he greeted her with another smug smile.

"John, stop it," the Doctor ordered him.

"What? So I'm not allowed to say 'hello' now?" John exclaimed in disbelief.

"We have issues more important than you flirting with my girlfriend now, which you shouldn't even be doing." He scolded the boy. The kid rolled his eyes.

"Doctor?" Clara asked causing an awkward silence. She had more to worry about right now than correcting the Doctor. "When did the thumping stop?" The two males looked at the door in silence. There was no noise coming from outside. The Doctor whipped out his screwdriver and pointed it at the door.

It slid open to see the beast hissing outside, licking its lips. It charged again, driving the terrified trio into the wall. It stopped in front of them, hissing as it studied them closely.

"Time Lord," it growled. The three all stared at it with surprised, wide eyes.

"Yes," the Doctor barely muttered, "that's me."

"The Last Great Time War, what became of it?" It asked. "Or, better yet, why are there no more Time Lords?" Another awkward silence.

"I won," he finally said. "I am the Doctor. I'm the last Time Lord and I won."

"My people are gone." It said wistfully. "I am tired, Doctor."

"Then sleep," John suggested. Clara and the Doctor both turned their heads at John. He shrugged at them. "You've had a long run now. Haven't ya'?"

"Yes," it muttered.

"Then you have the right to a good, long rest." He said patting its shoulder.

"Yes," it beamed, looking at the awkward time-travelling duo. "Leave me to rest."

The Doctor opened his mouth to say something but Clara butted in muttering, "You don't need to tell me twice." On their way out the Doctor turned around and stopped for John.

"Are you coming?" He asked the boy. The kid didn't take his eyes off the alien.

"You two go on without me," he replied. "I'm gonna make sure fella' here gets a good night's rest." They both shrugged and walked out of the ship, ignoring what John had just implied.

Back at the TARDIS, Clara hugged the corner of the ship while the Doctor fumbled for the key. He didn't really need the key, he just liked the nostalgic feeling it gave him. She wasn't going to stop him. That had to have been the most exhausting trip they'd had yet.

When they got into the TARDIS she realized that she still had the boy's Stetson. She took it off and threw it down to the bottom of the control room.

"That was exhausting," Clara huffed. The Doctor didn't respond and just flicked the switches on the console. He didn't seem to show emotion; no exhaustion, or anger, or excitement; he was just serious. "Doctor, what's wrong?" She asked him, slowly making her way up to the console and putting her hand on it. He gave a small, meaningless chuckle.

"Funny thing. I could ask you the same question." He murmured with a cold smile. There was no life in his eyes, only a mask to his true feelings. Clara looked at him with her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Her eyes wide with distress at the weight of the situation.

"What do you mean?" She asked. She started to lean against the console. He had figured it out. Well, almost figured it out because he knew something was wrong with her. He shook his head in disappointment.

"You're not yourself, Clara. You've been..." he trailed off.

"I've been what?" She asked him in suspicion. She crossed her arms.

"You've been...off." He told her. She looked at him in distress again, her eyes crying out for help. He grabbed her arm and rubbed it with his thumb comfortingly. "I'm just worried about you."

"I was just hallucinating from the heat. I'm fine now." She told him.

"It wasn't hot at the Maitlands'." He said.

"Excuse me?"

"You saw something at the Maitlands'. You were looking at something in the kitchen, and it wasn't the kids, no. You were looking at something in the distance." He told her. "And the TARDIS, when you were in the TARDIS you saw something when there was nothing."

"I was just sorting out some Trenzalore business. I'm fine now." She reassured him.

"You're positive?" He asked her.

"Yes, Doctor."

He stood tall and straightened his bowtie. Oh, he was going to do something alright. Even if it took the longest time possible he would fix Clara Oswin Oswald. But for now, she was going to think they were going on an adventure.

"Well then," he said. "Where do you want to go?"

She gave a slight smile, "Surprise me." He returned it before dancing around the console, flicking switches and pulling levers and pushing buttons. Time to see the universe.

* * *

**Good Afternoon, good people! Sorry, if the ending seems rubbish and rushed. Again. And the grammar seems _unbearably _terrible. Again. I feel like I posted this late, and I apologize. This has been on my computer for awhile now, and I've been trying to catch up on the next chapter (I have 5 paragraphs so far! *flails before death*). So, again, sorry. I also feel like I was going to say something but it has slipped my mind...oh wait a minute! I'm going to try my best to update once within 1-2 weeks (so I don't get sidetracked). Thanks so much for reading and I would really appreciate reviews. Thank you so much! **

**Weesie**


	4. I The Lost Moon of Mogr

**Ugggghhhhh this took longer than it should have. Sorry about that, didn't mean to keep you all waiting. Anyways, I hope this chapter entertains you until they reveal the 12th Doctor. I am very excited about this announcement.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.**

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The singing of monks echoed throughout the corridor of the temple. The scuffing of poor leather shoes against the dirty floor made a swishing noise. Five monks walked down the skinny corridor that only held two of them at a time. The one monk in front of them had a lantern that swung from the baggy robes that covered his entire body. It was held up from an iron chain that was hidden in the robe of the lead monk. The lantern danced its soft flicker at his knees.

The end of the corridor opened up to them to reveal cages that filled with war prisoners, criminals, sick, old, heretics, and random people pulled off the street that they deemed 'insane'. They were all of different species to humans, that's for sure.

They cowered from the light to the corner of the cell; they're teeth and nails rotting out of them with their _excellent_ hygiene care. Their gaze was drawn to a creature eating said fingernails and whose hearing, smell, and taste ripened to counteract the rotting of his other two senses. If he wasn't insane before, he was now.

They slowly made their way to the cage door, which they opened. The prisoner jerked his head towards them with a slight gasp as they made their way to him. He shook and began to twitch towards any sound made now. They grabbed him up by the shoulders, making sure in his numbness that he could still feel their cold grip on his bare skin. He wore nothing.

They pushed him out of his cell and slammed the rusty door shut. Their song continued. They pushed him along the dark corridor, the man still twitching as he tried to figure out what was going on. They walked into an open area filled with light. The man hissed and tried to cower away from the blinding element but the monks shoved him back forward. They guided him up the steps that seemed to rise in the center of the temple towards the suns. When they finally reached the top, they threw him against a bloody altar at the center. The man looked towards his captors with glazed eyes.

"I have a right, you know," he rasped. "I HAVE A RIGHT! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!" The song of the monks just continued as the lead stepped forward.

"You're not allowed to do this to me, I have a right. I have a right!" He shouted at the side of the monk before his blood spilled over the altar.

The TARDIS touched down on the ground with a final shake.

"Here we are then!" The Doctor exclaimed after one last round around the consoles, making sure all the proper levers and buttons were on correctly so the ship wouldn't hurtle itself into space. "The Moons of Gorbla, six moons orbiting an uninhabitable gas planet that consist of coniferous and deciduous forests."

"If it's an uninhabitable gas planet then why are there trees?" She asked him.

"I was talking about the moons not the planet," he explained to her. "The moons are also inhabited by several species, 23 excluding the bugs, that worship the three suns like gods. They call them Stor, Monthane, and Nonb with a silent 'n'."

"Alright, and what about the planet?" Clara asked him.

"They believe it's Satan. They call it Mogr," he told her.

"That sounds charming," she noted.

"Indeed," the Doctor said, closing in on her face before rushing towards the TARDIS doors.

"So, which moon are we on?" She asked him as she fast-walked after him.

"Derimne, fourth moon from Nonb." He informed her with a giddy look on his baby-face.

"Are you sure? Last time we tried to get here we ended up on the Boeshane Peninnsula," she threatened with one of her bossy nanny looks.

"No, no, of course not. I've checked the monitors from outside, done several readings, and checked the time era we are now in," he told her, leaning against the door.

"Really, when?" She asked him. He gave a wild smile.

"Just now," he told her before whipping around and opening the TARDIS doors. He stuck his face out and took in a deep breath of the sweet forest air. He then proceeded to sniffing around, sticking his face into dirt and licking the tree bark.

Clara took a hesitant step out, delicately prodding the ground with her foot before leaving the comfort of the TARDIS. She and the grumpy snogbox had got on a lot better lately. Ever since Trenzalore it'd been much nicer to her, and it even went out of its way to block the Tenth Doctor from bothering her inside of it. Outside of the TARDIS was a much different story.

She was met with what sunshine reached the forest floor. It scattered along many brightly colored leaves that had fallen earlier in its time. The smell of sweet pines and nutty oaks travelled along the slight breeze. They seemed to have landed on a path that had earlier carved its way into the forest and lead into a city. She looked around her surroundings, making sure he wasn't there.

The Doctor happily bounced to her and lightly tapped her shoulder. She instantly snapped out of her daze and turned to look at him. He had one of his goofy, wide smiles plastered on his face. She couldn't help but smile back.

"Come on," he told her, "I have something to show you." He quickly snatched her hand and yanked her down the path and broke into a light run.

"Where are we going‽" she shouted.

"Somewhere exciting!" he shouted back. His pace thankfully slowed down after a while and they stopped at a cliffedge. Clara slowed down as they approached the cliff to see what he brought her here for.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, the main event: the City of Tarrakhata." He announced while spreading his arms out to gesture to the beautiful city below them.

"Wow," she murmured in awe.

"Yes," the Doctor agreed with a nod of his head. "You should see the place at sunset."

Spread in front of them was a miraculous city made of some sort of rock that dazzled in the light of the three suns and looked as if it were professionally cut. It reflected a beautiful blue and green from the sky above. The city itself seemed carved into the stone with hexagonal shapes, and the corridors connecting buildings-or caves, if you prefer-to each other were encased with glass. Below the building-caves were many aliens rushing to get to their next destination. Other aliens walked the glass corridors talking on their cellphones or hurrying to a meeting. The entire place was warm and lively. It was absolutely breathtaking.

"Can we go down there?" she asked after recovering herself.

"What do you think we came here for? A stroll?" He retorted before offering his hand to her. She looked at him with a bright smile and took it. He smiled back and led her along the cliff to where the rock rose a bit and one of the glass corridors she had seen before connected the city to the cliff. She laughed as he made a dash inside and saw that the entire corridor seemed to light up.

Once they came to the end of it they reached an elevator that blocked the way of entrance into the building ahead.

"So, what are those cave-thingies?" Clara asked him.

"Cave-thingies? You mean the buildings?" he asked her for clarification.

"Yeah, I guess," she said with a shrug.

"Well, what are buildings for? People work in them, live in them. Of course, we're not going in the buildings. We're headed downtown," he told her.

"Downtown?" She enquired.

"You know, downtown," he exclaimed waving his arms around. "With shops and markets and restaurants and sights and busy people doing busy things! The heart of the city, of course, it's a very different meaning here."

"Different how?" she asked.

"It's a surprise!" he told her while bouncing up and down. She laughed at his childishness as the elevator dinged up. They walked into the elevator next to one of the aliens. Clara did a double-take as she saw it.

It was blue with pointed ears and a round, muppet-like nose. It had beady red eyes and a few ginger hairs poked out of its cranium. It wore a black business suit carried a matching suitcase. It smelled like bubbles.

Clara didn't know what to expect when the elevator door opened with a ding on the bottom level.

"This is downtown," the Doctor said with a satisfied smile. The entire bottom floor hummed with the sounds of life. She smiled in delight and ventured out into the street. She poked her head to check out the venues, stalls, and shops. Strange aliens, much like the one she had encountered on the elevator, crowded the streets.

"So," she said as she spun on her heels to face him, "why did you bring me here?"

"Because I thought you'd like it," he told her, shoving his hands into his pockets. After a moment she linked her arm with his and looked up at him.

"Okay then, show me around," she commanded. His smile grew even wider as he dashed off to show her the area.

"This is a bakery, and by the looks of it they make fruit cakes," he giddily pointed out. "How great is that?" He spun around and looked at the aliens crowding the street. He pointed to a pair, "Those are Montharians, and they live the closest to the sun Monthane. Friendly race, bit like Italians, will find any opportunity to feed you."

The two he had pointed to were a gray speckled with gold. They had a ridge that doubled as a nose that went up and back the cranium and curved down along the cheek and stopped at the mouth. One of the two had spikes along the ridge. They had four webbed fingers and large, golden eyes.

"They're native to the moon Montharia. You might see a couple of them wandering about. Oh, and that blue fellow in the elevator with us was a Pithamogen," he informed her.

"Pie-toe-may-jen," Clara attempted in repeating. The Doctor shot her an unapproved look of disgust.

"No, don't butcher their name, that's rude! They're called Pie-tha-mo-gen, with a g sound not a j," he scolded her. She shrugged innocently as he turned away.

"Pietoemayjen," she muttered.

"Oi," he exclaimed turning to see her snickering. "Anyways, the PITHAMOGEN are native to Derimne. Don't ask why the names are completely different, it's like how you call people from the Netherlands 'Dutch'."

"Are they hostile?" She asked him.

"No, I don't think so, absolutely not," he told her. She perked her eyebrows in curiosity. "Well they're not trying to attack us yet, are they?"

"The key word in that sentence was 'yet'," she pointed out. He ignored that comment as his eyes continued to wander around the stands.

"Oh would you look at that beauty," he exclaimed as he clapped his hands together. He quickly walked over to an area where Clara followed him. When she had caught up to him he spun around in a ridiculous hat he had just purchased. It looked like a metal bowl with wings painted on the side. In fact, she was pretty sure that's what it was.

"What the hell are you wearing on your head?" she asked him as she tried not to laugh at the trinket that happily abided its time on his noggin.

"It's a Bourushe," he told her as he adjusted the 'Bourushe' on his head. She bit her finger, trying to suppress a laugh. He noticed her smile and he spun around. "Don't worry; I got one for you, too!"

In his hands was a red bowl with blue wings painted on the side. He placed it on her head as she stared at it in annoyance.

"Doctor, why are there bowls on our heads?" She asked him.

"They're not bowls, they're Bourushes! Bourushes are cool," he defended. She took it off and studied the inside.

"You think I could make a soufflé with this?" she asked him.

"Shut up," he mumbled to her as he turned away to ignore her. He ended up staring at a man on the street. She giggled and followed his gaze.

The alien was a skinny, gray thing. It had long limbs, an ovalish head, and buggish black eyes. It looked like a stereotypical alien that would be on Earth posters and such. He held up a plaque with those skinny arms of his and he shouted something out.

"The end is here! The end is here!" He recanted as he attempted to catch people's attention. The plaque he held agreed with his statement.

"They still have these people on different worlds?" She asked him.

"Yes, they're everywhere, unfortunately," he told her.

"This world, or moon, whatever it is…it isn't going to end, right?" she asked him.

"Of course not," he responded making a sour face. "That's ridiculous." He started to walk off.

"Where do you think you're going?" She shouted at him. He spun around and faced her with a goofy grin.

"Somewhere cool," he told her, his face extremely close to hers. He grabbed her free hand and pulled her down the street, passed the alien that was ranting on about the ending world.

He led her to a large, golden temple in the center of the city. It seemed incredibly out-of-place in the city, but it did seem to shine extraordinarily bright in the suns.

"This is the Temple of Tarrakhata," he introduced to her. He leaned down and whispered, "The inside is even more beautiful."

"Show it to me," she told him.

He grabbed her hand and bounded up the 100 steps to the top of the temple. They walked in to see paintings and drawings carved into the stone inside. In the center was a blood-stained altar that seemed to dreadfully rise out of the ground. It was higher up than they were though, and was reached by another set of stairs.

Clara grabbed the Doctor's arm and looked around. "What do the pictures say?" she asked him.

"Well," he started off as they walked down the steps to the lower level. "It starts over there," he said pointing at a section, "with the birth of the solar system. It talks about how the three Gods appeared and decided to create a planet for the people they had created." His finger moved along the wall as he told the story.

"But the planet was jealous. It was upset because it believed the creatures thrust upon it were stupid and meaningless and that the suns loved the creatures more than the planet they lived on. So, it turned toxic and killed all the creatures that lived on it. The Gods got angry, and who could blame them? Seeing something you loved get taken right from under you and be ruthlessly killed by someone you trusted. It's a terrible feeling.

"But the Gods didn't want Mogr punished for what it did. So, they decided to mock it. They placed six moons just beyond Mogr's reach so it couldn't touch them. Then they placed life on those moons, and bugs, and people, and toilet paper, and toothbrushes, and cakes. Then they saved 12 people who survived Mogr's wrath and placed two on each moon to teach the new people how to worship the Gods who put them there."

"That's not as bad as I thought it would be," Clara admitted.

"I'm not finished yet," he told her. She squeaked out an apology before he continued. "It is said that far into the future that Mogr will grow tired of this mockery and will attempt to attack the moons and kill the creatures. The three Gods will then eat the entire Gorbla System to punish Mogr for what he did."

"That's still not that bad, compared to other things you've told me," she commented.

"Well, I did leave out some of the gory parts," he said.

"Yeah, like what?" She asked him as his eyes were suddenly drawn to the altar.

"Like that," he murmured as he stepped closer to the steps to the altar. He started skipping the steps up.

"Chinboy," Clara called after him, only for him to ignore her. After glaring angrily at him she decided that it was best to follow him up the steps to see what he was fussing about. The first thing she noticed when she stepped up to the altar was the smell. "What is that?"

The Doctor bent down eye-level with the altar and ran his fingers across some untouched carvings on the side. "Blood," he simply said. He stood up and soniced the shiny substance spread across the altar. He looked at the analyzed results. "Somebody's been performing sacrifices."

"Why would somebody be performing sacrifices?" She asked him.

"I told you, Clara, I kept the gory parts out," he explained to her.

"Yeah, but why do them in the middle of a giant city? Someone's got to notice," she inquired.

"This is holy ground; nobody would question the Head Monk. They have a theocracy here."

"What, so they can just whisk people off the street and murder them on a table without any conflict at all?"

"Well if they do get into conflict they can just throw them on the table," he reminded her as he went back to analyzing.

"That's a pleasant thought," she sighed. A pause, "But who would be performing the rituals?"

"The monks, of course," the Doctor said as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe.

"You mean like those monks?" she asked pointing to five monks entering the room from a doorway. Their song resonated off the walls of the temple.

"Yes, a bit," he said grabbing her hand. They headed towards the door they came in from but it promptly shut.

"Okay, not good," he commented before spinning around to see the monks in front of him. The song abruptly stopped as the duo awkwardly shuffled in front of them. After a moment of silence, the Doctor fumbled for his psychic paper and held it out to them. "I was called over by the monastery in Monthare…."he trailed off.

The lead monk slowly reached its hand forward, grabbing the psychic paper, and bringing it close to its face. After a moment it handed it back to its owner who pocketed it.

"Please," the Head Monk hummed, "join us for tea."

Clara let out a breath she didn't know she had held and looked at the Doctor in relief.

The two sat down at a long, stout table with magenta cushions instead of chairs. In the center of the table was the teapot with the miscellaneous objects for it scattered around the table. Each person had a cup of tea in front of them, except for the Doctor. He still had on the ridiculous blue Bourushe on his head and had pocketed Clara's for her. He seemed very keen of the object.

Clara began to sip her tea as she and the Doctor looked at the Head Monk.

"So, what message has our sister monastery sent with its weary traveler?" he asked them.

"They didn't send a message," the Doctor said sitting straighter.

"Well then why are you here?" he asked.

"They sent me to investigate," he answered.

"Investigate what?" He asked as the Doctor turned on his screwdriver, flicking it. He looked over at the Head Monk before putting the screwdriver in his pocket.

"You've been sacrificing people, haven't you?" he whispered as he leaned in.

"We don't know what you're talking about," he murmured.

"Oh come on, don't be like that," he shouted as he stood up and danced around. "The blood on the altar is fresh, it isn't even completely dry." He flicked the screwdriver back out and twisted the handle as he adjusted the settings. He held it out as he observed what it read. "You also have electromagnetic brain waves, distress signals if you like, that a good deal of people are giving off in this very building," he leaned in again and started to whisper. "So why are the people frightened?"

"Please, Doctor," the Head Monk gestured to the table. "Drink your tea. It's going to get cold."

The Doctor eyed the cup of tea nervously, eyes darting to Clara and back to the tea. He swiftly grabbed the cup of tea and took a swig. He placed it down. He sure was getting worked up over something.

"Now, why have you been sacrificing? I doubt the Montharian Monastery would have approved," he questioned the Head.

"Our moon is the closest to Mogr. We knew of his evil plots and that he was sending a storm. We were just warning the Gods," he explained.

"You're not allowed to sacrifice people without clearance from the Montharian Monastery," he told them.

"We know," he said lifting his cloak to reveal his fish-like face. His blue-gray scales reflected the pale light of the room and his far-apart eyes seemed crossed. He had a large mouth jettisoning from his head and a spiny, green fin on the top of his head. Clara looked at him with wide eyes pooling in shock. "That's why we sent one of our recruits to ask the message, but Monthare declined our offer. So, we decide to place action in our own hands." He looked at the two of them with a sense of over-confidence that outmatched the duo's own.

"Oh, and you won't be returning to Monthare either," the monk told them which led the Doctor and Clara to exchange nervous looks. "Not that it mattered, it wasn't like you two were monks to begin with." It was at that moment when Clara began to feel drowsy. She looked at the Doctor with sudden realization. The sneaky little shits had drugged them!

"Doctor," she said his alias mainly for comfort reasons. He looked at her with the same panicked look and shock on his face. That's when he toppled over, unconscious. "Doctor!" she shouted this time in hope that he would wake up. He didn't. She whipped her head around to face the fish-head leader.

"Sweet dreams, dearie," he murmured to her before she fell into unconsciousness.

Clara woke up with a start and accidentally slammed her head against a brick wall. What an absolutely fabulous way to begin the day, isn't it? She seethed through her teeth as she lightly touched the spot where she had hit her head. After a few gulps of air she looked around her surroundings. It was dark and dinky with little light coming through a torch in the corridor. She was about to get up when a clinking grabbed her attention.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," she muttered. She lifted her arms to see that her wrists were bound by giant lead cuffs, followed by a good length of chain. She let out a sigh as she let the chains fall back to the floor. She glanced around the room to see if she could make out where she was.

The place was a bit danky, with straw and worn stone cobbling the wall and floor. A metal door and bars stood firmly in front of her, probably rusted into the ground. It was hot and humid too, like somebody was breathing down her neck. It helped bring out the awful smell of the place: feces, pee, and rotting hay. It was very dark as well, the only light coming from a torch somewhere in the hallway.

"Well, well then," a familiar voice said from the opposite corner of the room. Oh no, not him, anyone but him. He stepped out of the shadows and gave her a small grin, "looks like we finally have some time to talk."

The Doctor immediately sprang to his feet the moment he woke up from his deep slumber. He lifted his arms to see long chains dangling from his wrists. He shrugged at the thought of them off; he'd been in worse. He felt the top of his head for the Bourushe. It was still there, surprisingly. He shook off the idea of how cool it was and started focusing on what had happened before hand.

The monks were sacrificing people, which was bad. They drugged him and Clara, which was bad. They were knocked-out, which was bad. And now they were in some sort of prison cell-thingy, which was bad. He'd been in worse; at least he had his impossible girl. He glanced around and started to tense up once he realized that Clara wasn't anywhere near him. Okay, now things just got _really bad_.

"Clara‽" He exclaimed as he spun around looking for her. He patted himself down, if they were dumb enough to let him keep his jacket on then maybe they were dumb enough to have left the screwdriver on him. He dug through his pockets until he found what he was looking for. Fantastic! But the monks were clever enough to know that he had the screwdriver. Why would they let him keep it? He shook the unnerving thought from his head and zapped the shackles off his wrists. He rubbed them before rushing to the cell door. He had to find Clara.

And then his screwdriver distracted him by beginning to pulsate steadily. He scanned around and checked what it wanted him to check. Oh, how interesting, really interesting. Oh, oh wait a minute, that's not good. Now that is really not good, that is terribly frightening. He patted the object against the palm of his hand as he began sorting through the information that was just given to him.

A shrill scream pierced through his thoughts and shook him into the wake of reality. A familiar scream he had heard through the course of several nightmares.

"Clara!" He shouted as he buzzed the cell door before giving it a quick heave open. He activated the sonic and lifted it through the air, headed towards where he heard Clara's scream.

She drew in a sharp intake of air as he shoved his hands in his pockets and slowly sauntered over. His expression was grim and sad and one full of remorse. He stopped a few feet in front of her and looked down, thumbs rubbing along the edge of the pockets. He bent down so he was eye-level with her.

"Please, Clara, I just want to know what's wrong." He pleaded, reaching his hand out and trying to caress her cheek. She flinched and immediately tried to distance herself away from him by leaning against the wall. He let out a sigh, "What did I do to hurt you so?"

"Please, just-just go away," she told him while hating how her voice shook when she spoke. He tilted his head in confusion. Didn't he know what that meant?

"Clara, please. I just want to talk to you," he told her gently. Her hands started to shake inside the metal chains. The only other time she got this scared was when she got lost when she was little. Well, if she thought about it long enough then she technically _was_ lost but the Doctor would find her shortly…probably.

"Please just go away," she repeated. "You're not real, you were never real." His eyebrows furrowed in confusion at that statement.

"Of course I'm real, Clara," he told her. She let out a small gasp as he moved in closer. She tensed as he put his cold hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eye. "Clara, I'm real."

"No you're not, you're not real. You can't be real. You can't be real," she kept repeating over and over in hopes that the nightmare would end.

"I'll go away once you tell me what's wrong," he demanded in a sterner tone. "Why did you leave me?" He asked her before beginning to shake her.

Her eyes shrunk back in fear and her face was aghast by the fact that he moved her. He touched her. He was real and he touched and moved her. The Doctor wouldn't find her. He couldn't find her and she believed that she would be trapped in this hellish place until she finally reached insanity. Not that insanity was far away, of course. So, she screamed.

"What did I do to hurt you? WHAT DID I DO TO YOU‽" He exclaimed as he shook her a bit harder. He was insane and real.

"Please just go away, I'm scared. You're scaring me," she told him. He put his left hand on her face and gripped her tightly.

"Then just TELL ME!"

"Tell you what?"

"You know what, Clara! You always know what. NOW TELL ME." He began to shake her again and she let out another short-lived scream before managing to choke out a small sob.

"Please leave me alone, please," she begged, "please."

"Clara, Clara!" somebody shouted in the distance. She ignored it and focused rather on the figure before her that resembled the Tenth Doctor.

The Doctor, her Doctor, came forward and shoved the Tenth away from her. He vanished and revealed a turd-resembling alien in his place. She stared at him in confusion. Her attention was suddenly ripped from the strange alien and directed her to the Doctor. She let out another frightened scream.

"Clara, Clara, it's alright. Clara, it's okay, it's okay it's the Doctor," he told her. She calmed down a little.

"Doctor?" she repeated dumbfounded.

"Yes, the Doctor," he told her as he buzzed off the chains on her wrists. As soon as he had done so she quickly leaped into his arms for a hug. She let out a couple of wracked sobs before she finally controlled herself.

"I was so afraid," she admitted. He shushed her and rubbed her back in circles.

"It's alright, Clara. You're safe now," he told her. After several moments she pulled back, finally recovered.

"Okay, let's go," she told him. He smiled and brushed a stray hair behind her cheek. He pulled her up off the ground and led her out of the cage where they shut the door, the Doctor not wanting the psychopath who may have hurt his Clara to be free.

As they slowly made their way down the corridor, using the sonic as a flashlight, Clara requested that the Doctor catch her up on what she had missed.

"The monks are sacrificing people, they think it's the end of the world," he simply said with a shrug. "And it just so happens that we were caught in the crossfire and they threw us in their prison."

"How did we get out?"

"They left my screwdriver on me," he told her flatly.

"Why would they leave your screwdriver with you?"

"I think they want us to watch," he said slowly.

"Watch what?" She questioned even more confused than before.

"Exactly," he told her. He turned around, "I don't know yet."

The ground suddenly shook beneath them and Clara ended up leaning against the wall so she wouldn't topple over. It was over as quickly as it had come, thankfully. However, it began to pose even more questions.

"Okay, what is that?"

"That was Mogr," the Doctor hesitated.

"Okay," she nodded. "Then why was the ground shaking?"

"The gravitational center of the planet is decaying," he said a bit spooked. "The planet will erupt and the moons will be…"

"Don't say it," she told him. "Do not say it."

"Thrown into space to the mercy of the three suns," he explained to her. "And that's probably what they want us to watch."

"But why us, why not any other cellmate in this prison?" she asked him.

"I don't know," the Doctor turned around sheepishly from the bombardment of questions.

They continued to venture forward a little more carefully now, trying to avoid anything that might have fallen during the shake. The Doctor walked past a brightly lit corridor jutting out from the path they were on and Clara had to yank him back to it.

"You think that's the way out?" she asked him. He looked down at her, the sexual tension rising as they stared into each other's eyes.

"I hope so," he said before taking the lead again.

After 5 minutes of travelling through the hallway they reached the familiar opening and altar. The Head Monk and his followers turned to face them, his hood up again. It reeked of fish, and that musty grandma smell.

"Doctor," he addressed him as he slid off the hood of his cloak to reveal his fish-face again.

"So, here we are," he said hopping up a few of the steps. "What is it you want me to see?"

"See?" the monk repeated in confusion. "We didn't want you to see anything."

"Well then how come you let us out?" he asked the monks.

"Because, you were the answer to our prayers," he said raising his arms and hands. "Save us, save us, Doctor."

"I will not save you," he told them. The Head tilted his head.

"Well then, maybe you need a little incentive," he suggested with a snap of his fingers. Several humming monks briskly made their way to Clara and grabbed her.

"Oi, let go of me," she demanded as she struggled to get free of their grasp. They started dragging her up the steps towards the altar, preparing her for sacrifice.

"Let go of her," he shouted before the monks pushed him away from her, making him topple down the stairs. The Bourushe finally fell off of his head, the blasted thing cracking and making it unwearable.

"Doctor!" she exclaimed out of worry.

"Put her on the altar," he told the monks. They slammed her hard against the slab of stone and held her down on the altar.

"Let me go or I swear I will tear you apart," she threatened.

"Oh, and wouldn't that be a tragedy?" he mocked as he began to pace around the top of the staircase.

"Let her go," the Doctor commanded as he got to his feet.

"Save the system, Doctor," he commanded. The Doctor ran up the steps to come face to face with the monk.

"I can't, it's impossible. I don't have enough time to make a gravity manipulator," the Doctor told him. It was silent for a moment while the two stared at each other. Their contest was interrupted by another earthquake, but this time caused more collateral damage and part of the roof fell from the temple. It stopped shortly after and they regained their footing.

"Alright then," the monk said once he had patted himself down. He shot a glance at the Doctor. "Kill the girl."

The command was followed by an eruption of shouts from the group that gathered at the temple.

The Doctor repeatedly shouted Clara's name and did his best to demand her release.

Clara shouted the Doctor's name several times before threatening her murderers.

The Head Monk kept commanding her death and shouted angrily at his Gods.

"Fine, fine, FINE," the Doctor finally shouted. That was enough to create silence in the temple. "I'll do it, I just need to get back to my ship and I'll save you. Just let Clara go." The Head thought it over before raising his hand to signal the other monks to loosen their grip on the girl. The Doctor ran up to her and checked her for any injuries. Once he had made sure she was alright he gave her a quick hug.

He pulled away. "Clara, I'll be right back. I have to go and get the TARDIS."

"Can't I come with you?" she asked him. She was clearly afraid of something and it wasn't the monks.

"No, they won't let you leave the temple until I stabilize the planet's gravitational center," he explained to her. He rubbed the hair out of her face, "Don't let them kill you or hurt you while I'm gone. Okay?"

She nodded, "Yeah, okay." He gave her a fake smile before kissing the top of her head.

"I'll be right back," he told her again before leaving the temple.

He ran to the TARDIS. He didn't walk, he didn't saunter, he didn't jog, but he ran. He hadn't run that fast since he went back to get the last page of _Melody Malone_ after the Ponds…he shook the thought away as quickly as it came and climbed into the TARDIS as fast as he could.

He flicked several buttons on the controls before setting course to the temple. It was quiet without Clara, and the snog-_**TARDIS **_traveled with haste to the temple.

The TARDIS landed with a satisfied hum to alert its single passenger that it had arrived. Without further ado, the Doctor jumped out of the TARDIS and back into the temple where he rushed back up the stairs. He cautiously approached the Head with a grim expression. They had pushed Clara back on the altar. One of the monks openly carried a blade that was ready to strike if needed.

"I've fixed your planet, now let Clara go," he demanded.

A beat, "Release the woman," he commanded. The other monks shoved her off the altar and towards the Doctor like discarded parts of an onion. He caught her and quickly fled to the TARDIS without another word. He let out a sigh once they had closed the door. They stayed there silent for a moment until the Doctor pulled out the red Bourushe and placed it on her head.

"How did you stabilize the gravity so quickly?" Clara finally asked after having recovered.

"Oh, you know," the Doctor exclaimed with a wave of his arms as he flicked buttons. "Took a couple trips, built the stabilizer then launched it into the planet. Easy with time travel," he lied. She seemed a bit lost in her thoughts as she nodded quietly and leaned against the console.

She looked across the TARDIS to see a lean figure with moppy hair a blue-pinstriped suit looking at her fondly. She had acknowledged that he was real, and not even the TARDIS could save her from him now. The TARDIS gave a soft hum as it whirred away from the Derimne and a thousand souls screaming as they fell into the planet to support the lost gravity.

* * *

**How dramatic! This definitely took a lot longer than I really wanted it to. Mainly because I got a bit stuck once they encountered the monks and from there the story seemed to drag on a bit. Oh well, maybe it'll be better next plot! I am very glad I got this done before they announced the next Doctor. I made that my goal two days ago and I did it. Very proud of myself. **

**I've also got the formatting for this story mapped out in my head. It's basically going to play out like a normal season of Doctor Who: around 13 episodes (or chapters in this case), a special, and two or three minisodes (or we could replace it with short, unrelated stories). I will not, however, post separate stories in a series of thingies. I'm doing this story until I kill off Clara even if it causes me to mysteriously fall off a tall building and die before attending my own funeral. **

**I think that's it for this bit. Please review and such.**

**Weesie**


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